(no subject)
Human life was so fragile, and then, it was simple as well. Those weak bundles of limbs were born, grew and aged with time, died either at a young or old age; there were some who were alone, others who had someone by them.
But it was always the same.
He sensed their feeble heartbeats and calculated their remaining time.
Throughout the years his dark, soulless eyes had witnessed deaths of those whom he’d taken away from the land of the living. Their souls were led to where they belonged, but where they got sorted was none of his business. He simply needed to bring them halfway; it was his job… as one of the many Death Gods on the Earth of humans.
It was one such night that his unseen form lingered behind a closed window on the ninth floor of some old looking apartment complex. His eyes were calculating as they flew over the figure of a young boy, no more than fourteen years of age. The Death God’s eyes saw everything - the secrets and the obvious, the lies and the truth, and details of the creature so near to him.
Ueda Tatsuya.
Terminally ill.
He could sense everything about the youth; the weak, struggling heart and faint breaths. But at that moment something had happened. Those eyes, rounded with dark circles on the boy’s sickly pale face parted weakly in the blinding darkness of the room and… they looked at him.
And the numbers in the Death God’s mind changed.
No, it was not time yet.
Throughout the years he’d seen the boy - Ueda - quite a few times. It was always peculiar how his soul, clinging to the infected body, would keep holding on, keep fighting.
Was this what cheating death meant?
The strong soul, captivated by such a weak and useless body kept holding on for years that came despite that the human’s life was pointless as he was bound to the bed uselessly. But of course, just like everything, it could not last forever.
It was not the second or third time that those tired eyes stared at him. But they no longer belonged to the little boy he had come for all those years ago. It was a young man, perhaps in his early twenties. An early time to go for anymore, the God calculated, however this being had held out way passed anyone’s expectations… for a life of absolutely nothing.
Did he feel anything about that?
No, since when did Death Gods comprehend human emotions.
Yet this time, despite the strong soul still clinging, still feeding the body with life force it simply failed. It no longer held against the vicious, angry disease attacking it.
Yes, it was time.
His dark form neared the human, gliding through air with an aura of cold despair left behind. Those sickly eyes stared at him as they had many times when the human kept escaping his prolonged fate. When the God stretched out his fingertips, the skin so pale it held a blue tint, and touched the hand, hidden underneath warm blankets to pull the soul out of its dying vessel, the young man’s eyes never closed; even after the soul stood next to its body, Ueda’s lifeless eyes stared at them.
He went on calmly, and silently.
The Death God stared at the city below his feet, dangling over the edge of a skyscraper. He sensed lives blown out like candles in the night, but stayed put; there was a foreign feeling of wetness on his face as his cold chest cried with something else than the emptiness that usually echoed inside.