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Nothing intrigues Shuichi anymore.
It's not unexpected, he has lived many years reaping souls from bodies and leading people to their deaths. It isn't much of a surprise that he has grown weary, nothing excites someone who has seen everything after all.
That's the life of a grim reaper, a person meant to withstand the strain of witnessing people come and go. Is he even a person in the first place if he has the grim reaper's power? He's not sure if he wants to know.
Don't get him wrong, he wasn't like that from the start. The first time he did it, he keeled over with a hand over his mouth, golden eyes form into slits as tears build up at the edge of their eyes.
The sight of the rotting body in front of them caused them to spill out the contents of their stomach, which turns out to be nothing at all. Bile trickles down the pavement as his throat spasms, the movements harsh against their windpipe— soreness covering the back of their mouth.
The one who calls themself 'Satan,' snickers beside him, their blazing scarlet eyes whirl with excitement at the newbie's anguish. They relish in the sight of the man's shaking figure, his fingers trembling as they dig into the brick wall, bruises form at the tips of his fingers as his grip tightens even more.
"Hmmm? Shuichi can't take it?"
Shuichi hates the saccharine-sweet tone from the being beside him, it mocks him, just like the expression of the corpse in front of him. Their eyes wide and open, staring right into Shuichi's shaking ones.
"I-It's not that..-"
"Then, what is it?"
'Satan' cuts in elegantly, their pointed heels clacking against the ground. She placed her hands underneath her chin as she innocently smiles at the struggling reaper.
"It's hard! Th-That's a person, I can't just.."
"Can't or won't? You won't get anywhere with that attitude Shuichi and we both know it."
"I didn't want to do it.. you just-"
"Let me remind you that it was your choice, not mine."
The sternness of their voice made Shuichi back down, biting down on his bottom lip, trying to stop his mouth from quivering. He knows that it's his fault, he knows that he caused this to happen — but why? Why did it have to come to this?
It's not like it was entirely his fault, he knows he caused it, he doesn't know how or when or what he did but- he knows.
"I know it is but-"
'Satan' narrows their eyes at the boy in front of them, "Oh dear, you know I don't accept excuses. Hurry on now! It isn't that bad, you know?" She said as her finger pokes the reaper's cheek playfully.
Shuichi hisses at the contact and glares at the other's unamused expression, "Isn't that bad.. what are you talking about? F-Fuck you!" He bites back, eyes shaking with fury and teeth grinding together unbearably.
The display of his utter defeat only sent shockwaves of enjoyment to the demon's heart, their onyx colored hair flipped over her shoulder as she grinned at the other.
"Feisty, aren't you? Don't you want to know more about what led you here?"
The reaper's head snaps at that, their eyes widening at the other's words. "What do you mean by that?" They question, their stare hardening at the sound of the demon's laughter.
The scarlet eyed woman leaned in, tucking Shuichi's hair behind their ear— her breath hits the outside of his ear, it feels warm against his skin but it hits him all the same. The mocking tone that fills her voice as it mixes with the pure ecstacy she received from the man's reactions; it feels electric as it dances on the top of his skin- traveling through his body.
"Vwotklt Wyxi md blp wrp gsf vipl xz uip."
Something inside him breaks at those words, the name imprinting itself inside of his mind. He digs his nails in his palm before aggressively taking the scythe from the lady's hand, their eyes focused unto the target infront of them.
In one slash, the body falls apart — disintegrating as it turns into dust, the ash getting lost with the wind's movements. Euphoria blossoms into Shuichi's heart before he gasps and falls to his knees, their entire body shivering from the onslaught of emotions that force its' way into his heart.
Little pieces of his long forgotten memories flash through his head, splashes of purple take over his mind and the weight of a lifetime ironically increases.
It's something he didn't understand, and afraid he never will— but before he could utter another word, the woman in front of them snaps their fingers and the world around them changes.
It was quite an experience for sure, but even recalling the events seem so bleary. The paintings that hang on the wall of the building he resides in is bleary, the hues that should've beautifully blended with each other turning blurry with the fading emotions that drip, drip, drip.
Kokichi Ouma
The name rolls off his tongue almost painfully, it's familiar but new at the exact time. It's like a breath of fresh air that he expects will soon be the cause of their doom, a breath of fresh air that'll slowly turn into a deadly chemical to breath in, choosing to inhale it will cause his timely demise.
And the first time he set his eyes upon the aforementioned person, he figures that he may be right. A deadly chemical disguised as a breath of fresh air, it must be the most accurate way to describe the man in front of him.
Paint stains the other's cheeks, their tongue lightly poking out of their mouth as they focus on the canvas they're working on. It's not a sight to gawk at, especially for the reaper who has lived for a century— or longer, truthfully, he doesn't even remember anymore.
The painter looks up and winks at Shuichi before reaching over to stroke another line on their painting. The grim reaper almost falls over at the action, it almost seemed like they can see the reaper? But that's impossible, mortals shouldn't be able to sense him, let alone see him.
"Mr. Grim reaper-chan, take a picture! It'll last longer~" Shuichi almost gasps at the shorter's high pitched voice, that paired with the fact that they acknowledged his presence- it's truly unusual.
"You can.. see me?" The tone is riddled with confusion and hesitance, it's almost laughable– the way Shuichi furrows his eyebrows at the painter, their hands tightening around the handle of their weapon, why does he feel so on guard when he clearly has the advantage here?
"Of course I can, you're standing in my studio, why shouldn't I call you out? GASP! Are you going to steal my beloved's precious paintings?!" The purple haired boy accused the taller, their arms crossed over their chest and a pointed look on their face.
The first thought Shuichi had was, "Did you just say the word gasp instead of doing it..?" They questioned, confusion written all over their face. Who could blame him? The person in front of him is already bizarre in numerous ways and they're like what- three sentences in?
"Uhuh, I did! Whatchu gonna do about it?" The shorter challenged, a playful smirk painted on his face.
The reaper squinted at that, "What..? Why would I do anything about that?" What comes after is silence – stretching into one of awkwardness as they blink at each other, a pair of unreadable eyes meets a pair of anxious ones, it goes on for who knows how long before laughter cuts the tension between them.
"You take everything seriously huh? Neehehe.." Kokichi observes as he wipes the imaginary tears out of their eyes, little chuckles still leaving their mouth.
"I guess? Wait-! Your beloved? I wasn't informed of anything like that..." Shuichi whispered the last sentence to himself, his eyebrows crinkled as he tried to survey the other's expression. 'Satan,' surely never mentioned any spouse to him, was it something they oversaw? Impossible. That woman wouldn't forget of such an important detail, especially if it's concerned with reaping souls.
Ouma smirked at that, "Aww, are you jealous? Sorrrryy, I'm not available Mr. Grim reaper!" They continued teasing the other, even going as far as to wink in their direction.
"How do you even know that I'm one..?"
The painter sighed exasperatedly and gestured at the other's attire, "You look like one duh? Anddd.. you just confirmed it~" The reaper groaned at that and tried to put his attention elsewhere, like the broken canvases scattered across the room and paint buckets that seem to be kicked to the floor— their contents spilt all over the ground.
"I'm Kokichi Ouma!" They spoke up once more, a blinding smile splits across their face, his hand stretched out for the other to shake.
Shuichi contemplated, he tried to decide between reciprocating the same energy and telling them his name or ignoring the introduction all together, he decided on the former because, why not? "My name's uh- Shuichi Saihara, atleast that's what I've been told."
Kokichi's eyes went blank at that, their body turning stiff and the smile on their face faltering the tiniest bit. But the moment didn't last for long before the painter dragged him to different parts of the house.
He rambled on and on about the paintings he adored, though Saihara wasn't sure if they're actually all truths or if the painter was lying to him the entire time.
It seems like he finally found something that intrigues him.
He's in trouble alright.
It's been around two weeks since he received his mission and he's nowhere near finishing it. He knows he's in trouble, he knows that 'Satan,' would surely come for his head if he failed to do it by the end of the month.
'Satan,' isn't a merciful person, he knows that. The woman was nowhere near kind nor did she show others compassion, she lives off the thrill of gambles and risks - a heartless creature, a hole replaces the space where their heart was supposed to be.
It's a surprise that he hasn't been dragged back to hell yet, he figures that the lady is too occupied at the moment to deal with his incompetency. He fears what awaits him at the end of the month but he forces himself to swallow the fear down.
He couldn't quite figure out why he can't just get it over with, it's not like slicing someone's throat is a hard job— he would know, he has done it for years, to the point that he has mastered the art of doing it.
Surely it's because of the boredom, right?
"Saihara-chan, are you even listening?"
It takes everything in Shuichi to not give everything up right at that moment, his knees tremble at the sound of their voice— loud, annoying, so so lovely.
They tried not to let it show, tried not to let the other know of their effect on him as he smiled gently, "Sorry Ouma-kun, I was just thinking of something." They replied sheepishly, their smile anxious as always.
He meets the shorter's eyes,
And they're so enchanting, their eyes are big and round— filled with faux glitter, the sunlight from outside the window illuminates them perfectly, carefully reflecting the emotions that his words could never deliver, and oh god he pouts at Shuichi, their lively eyes paired with rosy lips formed into a frown is a truly bewitching sight to the reaper– what else can he do but melt?
"You're sooo mean Saihara-chan, you're not my favorite anymore!"
"A-Ah.. I'm sorry?"
"But of course, that's a lie. Saihara-chan will always be my favorite!"
Shuichi chuckled at the liar's own childishness before remembering something that has been on his mind from the first time they met, "Why do you think you can see me, Ouma-kun?"
Kokichi's pout turned into a mischievous smile at that, he pressed his index finger against his lips and even had the guts to laugh, "Hmmm? Who knows? Maybe we were lovers in the past!"
It's a silly answer, they both know it, yet somehow – it elicited a reaction from the reaper. He yelped as his chest aches unbearably, it feels as if someone implanted their weapon into his heart- repeatedly driving their blade into the organ without stop, he doesn't know what caused it or what it is– he only wants it to stop.
"Hey, hey.. it's alright Saihara-chan, you're alright." The liar cups Shuichi's cheeks, trying to bring them back to reality. To the reaper, he looked as beautiful as ever— especially with those captivating plum eyes riddled all over with concern.
Slowly but surely, Shuichi's breathing evened out - well, it's not like he could actually die as his status of grim reaper, but it won't hurt to be sure.
"Gee Saihara-chan, do you hate me that much?" Ouma questioned and the reaper knows that the crocodile tears were about to come, it's always that way with the painter.
And right on cue, the tears come dribbling down, his cheeks wet and eyes turning red the more tears fall down. It's not a new thing, Saihara is used to it at that point, but they still had the urge to wipe away those teardrops.
"It's not that at all!"
"So you do want to be my lover! Saihara-chan is so naughtyyy~
"Wh-What?!"
"Nishishi!"
When Shuichi watched the other's face relax into one of carefree, he forgets everything he has ever worked for. He suddenly feels as if finding about his past isn't worth it anymore if the boy in front of him would be exchanged for it.
He knows it isn't right and that one day, it'll bite him in the ass but he wants to forget about that for a while, that all the complicated stuff didn't exist— that grim reapers didn't exist and 'Satan,' is merely a figment of someone's imagination,
.
.
.
That he doesn't need to kill Kokichi Ouma.
He knew it wouldn't last long, dreams are meant to be crushed one way or another so why did he expect? Why did he expect that they'll have the happy ending he wanted? Why did he expect that he wouldn't need to do the only thing he feared doing in his entire time of reaping souls.
Tears pricked Shuichi's eyes as he lifted the scythe in his hands, their fingers circling around the handle– his grip unstable and his posture is unsightly, he's a mess, their hair disheveled and dry tear tracks cover his cheeks , their eyes puffy and red - Kokichi only watches.
"I-I'm sorry, I d-don't want this.." It comes off as a plea instead of an apology, his voice cracks after ever syllable uttered, their mouth turning dry the more he held unto the weapon.
The painter only smiled and slowly approached the other, the light in their eyes never vanishing nor wavering– not even once. His soft hands wrap around Shuichi's slightly larger ones, he helps the reaper lift the scythe even higher up, until it presses against his throat.
Panic flashes through Saihara's eyes as he tried to fight against the strength of the shorter, but it won't budge and he knows that the littlest mistake could lead to a situation that he doesn't want to happen.
"Saihara-chan, you can do it come on.. you've been doing this for so long, right?"
Shuichi insistently shakes his head, tears flying through the air as he desperately clings to the other's body, his left hand lets go of the weapon as it tightly grips unto Kokichi's hip.
"Shuichi, do it for me.. please?"
The reaper breaks down at the mention of his first name, the tears flow uncontrollably as his cries echo through the space— their grip on the other's body would surely leave a bruise, but would it matter anymore if he'll be dead in the next minutes?
Probably not.
"I love you, let's try next time– I love you, wait for me.. I love you, I love you, I'll keep loving you," He whispered as he leans in, their lips meeting each other, it isn't what others described as an exciting feeling. It didn't feel like fireworks exploding or confetti floating in the background.
It's filled with pain and agony, and everything Shuichi ever hated— but in that moment, he loved every single bit of it. It's the first time they shared a kiss, and it will surely be the last time, what would it take for them to share a hundred more?
He wishes he could make it last longer but he knows he can't stall anymore, time is already short as it is, he shouldn't torture himself like this. Maybe, in another timeline, they wouldn't need to suffer. Maybe, they can share a kiss under the stars, away from the grasps of destiny, away from everything that makes them unhappy.
Maybe next time, but not today.
Blood gushes out from the cut on Kokichi's neck and Saihara knows that look in their eyes, the eyes they loved so much — always so expressive in ways his lies lacked in, he wishes that it won't be the last time he sees them.
''Kill me, like you're meant to.''
Shuichi always does what he's asked of.