Ｋｉｎｄ　Ｄｅａｔｈ

-living. He had no memories of being anything else than what he was now. He didn't know how he came to be, all he knew was the void before he gained a physical form.

"I apologise... If my question was... Unpleasant."

- memories... Laughter, joy, they keep... People sane. I have seen this... A lot in the dead. Their... Souls barely hold on... Against the tide of negative by... Holding onto a sliver of the... Positive."

Another slow nod. It was... Something he envied about the -

Once more he nodded thoughtfully, his eyes observing the other's reactions while he answered. He wouldn't have asked if it wasn't something that was... Nagging at him. It had been for quite a while, too.

"To some... Moments like these, fond -

- of thing...

"Everyone is... different. The living aren't that... different, they are... just complex."

His eyes finally moved up to look at the other, a tilt of his head.

"What about... you? Do you... not have any... happy memories to hold... on to?"

"Wouldn't holding... onto the pain make it... worse? How would that... make someone feel a sense... of control?"

His hand travelled up so he could take another sip, but after sipping, his teeth hung onto the paper cup, it seems even the living didn't know a lot about this sort-

- light?"

It was genuine curiosity. Perhaps he had gotten more curious about emotions and the reason behind the actions of the living, but he never understood this side of being alive.

"Memories... huh..."

He seemed to be considering something for a moment before speaking once again.

"Indulge me... Memories of... suffering, regrets, pain... betrayal. Why is it... that the living cling to them... so desperately? Why chose to... keep the dark, rather than.. .the-

That actually fits really well, cheers!

- more... chances. Just... void. It's also... about a... thousand times more... painful than... death."

He was not joking at all. The shattering of a soul was like living through all past deaths all at once, not to mention, your very being ripping to shreds. Every single strand.

The being squished the cup around in his hand, taking a sip calmly.

"There is charm... in the paper... cups."

More specifically, it was the taste of instant coffee that he found special, for some strange reason.

"Unlike simply... dying, a shattered... soul is the end of... it all. No rebirth, no-

- the fabric of reality itself. With a nod, he took a sip.

"But it's... a good thing you didn't. It's... worse than... death."

"Unresolved... grievances. Remnants... of hope. Other influences? It... could be... any number of... reasons."

He glanced towards a spot next to him and extended a hand. When he pulled it back, a paper cup that was steaming appeared, as if he pulled it out from-

-someone... that is brutally... murdered life after... life. Or someone that... has completely... liven up for various.. reasons."

He tapped the sill thoughtfully.

"The soul either... returns to the cosmos... or simply vanishes. Either way... they can't live... again."

-to lead their loved ones safely, wishes to stay away from their loved ones, for some reason, praying for riches (Pretty sure they thought it was a different shrine), etc.

"Souls shatter... when sustaining... too much trauma.. or giving up... hope. For example, -

"In this world... most of them are... abandoned. Or have... a cult... following. Not that it changes... much where they... go."

He explained, glancing into the distance as if he was recalling them. He had seen quite a few over time, heard whispers from some, simple things. Prayers -

- appeared and told them.

"That is... indeed a part.. of the job. Though, I... receive... plenty of thanks... from the souls... themselves. Unless they... break and scatter."

He hummed out as if it was no big deal. Which, I suppose for him, it really wasn't.

"There are places... that offer things in... gratitude. Though, we... don't need or... use anything. But, I.. suppose it's the thought that... counts."

If only they knew his affinity to sweets and coffee, they might swap their offerings. Though, he doubts anyone would take him seriously if he just-

-against the sill.

"Explaining... it is harder... than comprehending."

"To be honest... I call it... work, but... it's really just a state... of being for me. I am... the embodiment... of Death... A concept... in flesh."

He rubbed his fingers together to get rid of the last bits of the leaf, shifting to get move comfortable -

-where I... exist at once."

Death doesn't offer such things. Killing someone, either out of mercy or otherwise causes more issues than anything. Even those hunters last time had caused a few tangles in the threads of fate.

- of the leaf back outside, his eyes returning to the other.

"Many, yes. With... the living constantly... dying, I need... someone to lead... them to the... afterlife. I can't... extend my presence... to the millions... of worlds -

"Only a few... years."

He nodded, moving his head to look at the leaf he had caught before, it was already beginning to turn brown in his hand.

"I'm not the... best at noticing... when someone is... uncomfortable. Though, I'll learn.. in time."

He admitted, moving his hand to scatter the remains-

-floating leaf that was about to intrude through the window.

"It's not easy, but... I don't always... handle tasks like that... alone."

- apologies."

He won't make promises that he won't visit the topic again, since it might come up sooner or later, but at least he can try to steer clear of starting them.

"You are not."

He moved his and to catch a -

"I only recently... began walking among... the living in the... flesh."

Which easily explained his difficulty speaking and his inexperience with most emotions. After spending billions of years only speaking to souls, who didn't actually speak, he had forgotten how to.

"Was it.. awkward? My...-

- he listened to the other speak, finally, his eyes moved back to land on the other.

"Busy as... usual. I was cleaning... up a war before... coming here."

A slight frown crinkled his brow.

"Do keep... in mind, I am not... proficient in... 'small talk.'"

That statement made Death consider for a moment.

"That's not true. You... are the first jinkininki that... I have seen in the... flesh."

He admitted, moving a hand to crack the window open a bit more, to let some more of the breeze in. He blocked most of it anyway. There was silence as-

-felt quite comfortable, it was rare that he got to actually enjoy it.

"You are not the... first I have seen who... is addicted to... harming themselves. It's... a dark spiral. I recommend... escaping it... when you have a... chance."

The being let out a sigh, shifting over to lean against the window sill, to make himself a little more comfortable.

"You can't... escape fate. It's... relentless like that. You are simply... prolonging the... inevitable."

He allowed his eyes to drift out and up at the sky. The breeze this time -

-carefully. Perhaps he was trying to learn them? Or simply read them.

"Life is... that way for everyone. But somehow... they learn to keep... the happy moments close... and let the bad ones... pass like the wind."