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Death had a friend.
Old faces were not very common for omnipresent beings — since they were always watching. There was a constant flow of new faces, as soul after soul joined Death’s ranks. After a point, the company becomes too stale to entertain, and Death would find itself alone again.
But that young soul left Death anticipating a new surprise every time it appeared. And even without having spoken to the child, it found itself excited to see him again.
His first visit was brief. As most souls do he appeared with wide eyes and greedy deep gasps, still caught in a fight that’s already ended. Death knows not from personal experience but from watching it happen again and again that the first few moments of death are always the worst. That little piece of a soul which still believes they’re still alive screams at its incorporeal body to move, afraid of a threat long gone-- afraid of how the threat was long gone. It was the only facet of being mortal that made Death grateful to be a god.
But before the child could catch his breath, he vanished.
And it surprised Death. A laugh echoed throughout the void. It sounds impossible, for a being who sees the past, present, and future instantaneously to be caught off guard. Death has seen every spin of the wheel-- every unlikely odd come true, all “impossible” events occurring billions of times.
But not once had Death been able to wish someone goodbye.
——————
Death pondered that last thought for a long while.
So often had it heard cries over unsaid words and missed opportunities, souls screaming over the unfairness of how short life is in comparison to what comes after. It found familiarity in the names of goodbyes the souls longed to give or receive.
Death could never understand their lamenting, not anywhere near as well as any other mortal. Even the mouse souls that skittered about Death’s children knew more of grief than the god itself.
And yet Death quietly envied the souls’ grief. The ability to love something enough to the point of losing it torments one even in death. It’s something only possible on dirt.
Love seemed like a wonderful thing. Only could living beings fall in love with thousands of things over the course of their lives. Each one was as new and thrilling as the last. It sounded exciting. Wonderful.
Yet, if being alive was so enthralling, why did the child always return glad to be back?
—————
As said that in the world of the living, time flowed like a river. Steadily pushing forward, carrying along everything in its current. So, if life is a river; death is a waterfall. It’s where the stream jolts downward, and dumps everything caught in its current, shattering the once steady flow into a mist that drifts up and out. Here, a blink could last a hundred years, and what felt like a milenia would have only been a few seconds.
Time didn't feel linear, yet it was-- if only a bit warped.
Only the deity could track the flow of time. So, many souls would insist that time is meaningless in that endless inky void. You couldn’t count days when there was no Sun to set.
But, while Death ruled the timeless realm, it was not immune to waiting. It knew how few seconds that eternity was, felt hours tick by, years pass. It had to, for Death was meant to shepherd each soul in when it was their time to leave.
Bring them home and keep watch; Give them company, ensure their comfort. It was a busy yet simple task, so Death was obligated to know how that particular sheep managed to join and leave It’s herd as he pleased.
Personally, Death just wanted to know why. Why would the child abandon the living world so regularly? Why did he leave hours after arriving? Why did he constantly sigh in relief upon arriving?
Why then, as he stood knowingly in the God of Death’s realm, the young soul looked so at ease?
So, it broke the peaceful silence and asked, “Why do you visit so often, child?”
Reasonably startled by the new voice, the soul’s eyes flew open and scanned the empty abyss.
He looked up before whispering, “God”
“I am one of many gods, but my title is the God of Death.” It’s deep voice echoed about, sounding slightly amused.
“Oh,” the soul’s eyes widened at the implications, blinking briefly before replying, “am I dead dead?”
Humored by the redundant question, Death gave him time to think over his words. Watching the soul’s curious expression morph into one of concentration before shutting his eyes in frustration.
It chuckles slowly, something the old god hasn't done in a millenia, before returning to its original question, “Young child, I would still like to know why you continue to enter and exit this realm of mine. Life is certainly not miserable enough to make one endeavor to this vacant -”
“Izuku!” the soul interrupted, “My name is Izuku, Mr. Death Sir.”
“Then please just call me Death, Izuku.”
Izuku glanced down before breathing in and rolling back his shoulders. He was acting as though he was preparing to be punished for his confession. Death found it quite charming.
“In all honesty uh, Death, life doesn't suck too much. And I don't even mean to come here half the time! I mean- it's very nice here and I actually like my visits a lot, I’m just very unlucky.” He took in a big breath --a habit many new souls take a while to break-- before continuing.
“Sorry! It’s really hard to explain how I keep getting in and out of this- this dead place. Uhm, Long story short, when I die, I’m able to go back in time just a day or so earlier. And I’m very accident prone so you can understand why I keep ending up back- back here.”
“Young Izuku, you need not lie to me. No harm will come from telling me the truth.”
Which was not entirely false-- in that situation, Death truly had no intention of upsetting the child.
Of course, it would punish those deemed worthy of punishment. There was no rest for the wicked. After all, pain comes in many forms, and a physical body is not required to torment a being.
“Okay, so maybe occasionally I’ll set back time myself to fix something. It’s not even that big of a deal, no one really even remembers it so it’s almost like it didn't happen. Plus, being here gives me a chance to breathe, and I always come back better so it’s honestly a good thing. I mean-”
“It is impossible to breathe here child,” Halting Izuku from burying himself further in denial. Death knew the search for any good reason to die was fruitless.
They say that few things are worse than death, but Death would rather say there is nothing worse than ignoring the bliss of life.
From the souls who speak, unfazed by the possibility of being left unheard, Death often heard longing over being able to crunch leaves or watch sunsets. Souls who spent too much of their lives climbing after some unachievable perfection, never allowing themselves to stand for a moment to take in the view. It pities the souls who think there was one way to live and they failed.
For a being who has never lived, Death knows that the only wrong way to live is to not take advantage of all life has to offer.
As one soul had said, it’s the little moments that made life worth living.
So, even though Death enjoyed his company, it would rather not see that child sitting at its side.
“you have no lungs to take in air. That is far worse than any trouble life brings. You understand, yes?”
It waited for a moment, watching the boy bite his lips in thought. When he shook his head, fluffy green curls bounced in the movement. Death was absolutely charmed.
“Here, in my domain, nothing thrives. You cannot feel a cat’s silky fur as you pet its soul. You are not able to smell freshly cut grass or feel the rumble in your throat as you hum a tune. The warm embrace of loved ones feels empty.
Please do not allow yourself to find more comfort in death. There is no joy to be--”
Izuku vanished before Death could finish its monologue. It did not fault the boy for his sudden departure, it only wished to not see him again soon.
But, maybe next time it will get the chance to say goodbye.