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Ryoji was alone. He wasn’t sure where he was, if anywhere. He’d been consumed by the rest of Death, that much was clear, Makoto had chosen not to kill him, so fate had done the job instead. He was everywhere and nowhere, complete and unfulfilled, and somewhere everything that wasn’t this tiny piece of him must have merged with Nyx. The fall was probably happening right then and there, if it hadn’t already passed.
He wasn’t in a dark place, nor was it light. He had a sense of self, but no body. All that held him together was a desire to live. It was a foolish desire, and he knew that. He’d lived for as long as Death would allow him, and his time was up. And yet, he still wanted more time. He wanted to talk to Makoto, finishing his sentences and listening to music through one of his earbuds. He wanted to feel the warmth of sunlight, and the chill of a foggy night. He wanted to know what it looked like when the sakura blossoms bloomed in the spring, after all everyone claimed the pictures didn’t even come close to the real thing. He wanted to try new foods, to choke on terrible drinks, and find new ways to incorporate his scarf into his outfits. He missed his scarf. He didn’t know much about where he was or what state he was in, but he definitely didn’t have his scarf.
At least Makoto didn’t have to see that transformation. At least Aigis wouldn’t seem insane for wanting to target a human anymore. At least Ryoji didn’t need to watch the Fall happen…Had it already happened?
Ryoji was certain that he could give up his current self and see what Death was seeing. If he gave up his individuality he’d know exactly what was happening, exactly what had happened to Makoto…but if he did that he wouldn’t be Ryoji anymore. In order to know whether or not Makoto was alive Ryoji would have to give up the ability to care, and he desperately didn’t want to do that. He was stuck. Truly stuck. He was trapped into keeping his humanity by that very humanity itself, he was stuck clinging onto a ghost of a life he never would have cared about had he never lived to begin with. He was stuck as Ryoji because being Ryoji made him want to remain Ryoji. In that way, he supposed, he was very much alive.
His thoughts had been going in circles for who knows how long, trying to decide what action or inaction to take. Ryoji kept on going around and around wondering and imagining, and it was getting him nowhere, or rather keeping him nowhere.
Yes, that was where Ryoji was, nowhere. Nowhere was meant for no one and because he was someone he could never belong to nowhere. And yet there he was, someone nowhere barely existing, entrapped in Death itself. Was this it? Was this all he would ever experience again? He wanted to hold out hope, but he knew Death was inevitable, and that if he just accepted that he would be allowed to rejoin it, and maybe Ryoji would still exist in some form, diluted into the rest of Death, but he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to be more than Ryoji, he didn’t want to be anything more than himself, and so, he stayed nowhere, doing nothing.
And then…!
Something.
Someone.
Makoto.
He was there.
Makoto was there and he was hugging him and Ryoji had a body again, and he was breathing again, he had a heartbeat again, and wow hugging a person was warm. Was Ryoji alive…?
“Yes…”Makoto started.
“You are?” Ryoji finished, finally able to speak as he had a body again.
“Ok good, you're definitely Ryoji, if I accidentally grabbed the wrong part of Death that’d be really bad.” Makoto sounded like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry, and honestly Ryoji felt about the same.
Then, the separation started and that HURT.
He was being pulled, ripped away from what he was before as he and Death screamed in agony, because part of him was being ripped away from the rest of him and WOW, had he mentioned that it hurt?! He was pretty sure he was screaming or crying or something and so was Death, but it really hurt too much to know for sure.
And then…
It stopped.
The pain stopped as Ryoji and a few other wisps of Death were finally set free from the prison of nowhere. “Sorry,” Makoto whispered, his voice impossibly soft. “Even the Universe Arcana has limits, and you have to pay a price for more time.”
The Universe WHAT NOW???
Who gave him THAT?
Ryoji couldn’t help but laugh, a hysterical sound bubbling out of him as it hit him how absurdly lucky he was, how absurdly lucky they all were because he was feeling Nyx being sealed behind him and somehow Makoto had thought to use Death itself as the price instead of something like his life force, and he’d gotten Ryoji out and he was pretty darn sure he was almost entirely human.
He landed on the ground somewhere, he was pretty sure it was his school, and Makoto was right next to him. They were both alive.
Ryoji opened his eyes and stared at a crowd of people, SEES, all around him and Makoto, lifting them and wrapping wounds he hadn’t noticed before. He quickly assessed Makoto, knowing from the little bit of extra Death that had come with him that Makoto was alive, and his life force had only been expended by about a year.
He looked higher up and saw a sakura tree, tiny buds not anywhere close to blooming, and tears of joy began to pour from his eyes as he realized he had more than enough time to see it bloom.
Ryoji was no longer Death, he was well and truly alive. Maybe when his time came he’d rejoin Death, but that was a long time from now. A single sakura blossom had bloomed early, and Ryoji marveled in its beauty.