Work Text:
The fluorescent lights of the convenience store hummed, their cold glow flickering in uneven intervals, casting pale, sterile illumination over the empty aisles. The hum, the faint buzz of a refrigerator unit, the soft rustle of a plastic wrapper shifting somewhere in the store—these were the only sounds that accompanied the late hour. It was the kind of quiet that stretched thin, pressing against the ears, making every small noise seem louder than it was.
Kobeni stood in front of the refrigerated section, her fingers curling tightly around the slick aluminum of a cheap canned coffee. The glass of the fridge door reflected her own weary face back at her, the dark circles smudged beneath her eyes stark under the artificial light. Her lips were parted slightly, as if caught mid-thought. Another double shift. Another night spent barely holding herself together. The cold air seeped through the thin fabric of her sweater, prickling against her skin, but she barely registered it.
And then, the world shifted .
It was subtle, but unmistakable—an unnatural stillness, one that did not belong to the quiet mundanity of an empty store at night. It was not the ordinary loneliness of a place long past its busy hours, not the natural silence that settled when human presence faded. No, this was something heavier. Something that pressed in from all sides, making the air feel thicker, the shadows deeper, the light too harsh and too dim all at once.
She didn’t need to turn around to know they were there.
Still, she did.
Death stood barely an arm’s length away, her oversized sweater hanging loosely over her frame, the sleeves swallowing her hands, leaving only her pale fingertips visible. She was unassuming, deceptively normal in the way she stood—posture slightly slouched, like a girl who didn’t quite fit into the world around her. Her white hair was unkempt, strands falling across her face as if the wind had tousled it just moments before.
But her eyes— those were not human.
Gray, ringed with an unnatural darkness, like the tides circling the center of a whirlpool. They were vast, too vast, containing something endless, something unknowable. A gaze that did not see as much as it consumed , as if to look into them for too long was to risk being swallowed whole.
Kobeni swallowed hard, forcing air into her lungs, steadying the tremor in her hands. The canned coffee was cold against her palm, condensation slick beneath her tightening grip. “Why are you here?”
Death blinked, as if the question had genuinely caught her off guard. Her lips parted slightly, then pressed together again, like she was searching for the right words, the right way to explain something that shouldn’t need explaining. Then, her lips parted, and her voice came out breathless. “I missed you,” she finally murmured, her voice a breath of sound, barely above a whisper. “I… wanted to see you.”
The hesitation in her tone was unnatural, an eerie kind of vulnerability that didn’t quite fit her presence. Like she was afraid of the answer. Afraid of being turned away.
Kobeni’s fingers curled tighter around the can. The aluminum gave a soft crack as the pressure bent it inward. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said, voice firmer this time.
A sharp inhale. Death took a step closer, movements light, almost weightless, yet somehow suffocating in their presence. “Do you… not want to see me?” Death took a step closer, her expression tightening in something like distress. Desperation seeped into her words, stretching them thin.
Kobeni exhaled slowly, grounding herself, trying to steady the unease curling in her gut. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I—I just… I have work.”
“You always have work.” Death’s voice cracked at the edges, like something brittle threatening to break. Her fingers twitched at her sides, clenching, unclenching, like she was barely restraining herself. “You always have something else—someone else—somewhere else to be.”
Kobeni had learned not to answer immediately when they got like this. The way Death could fray at the edges, unraveling into desperation. Any response could be the wrong one.
Kobeni flinched as Death moved—not much, just a shift of weight, just a breath closer—but she didn’t step back.
Death’s fingers curled at her sides again, this time with an unnatural stiffness, something too precise, too deliberate. Her posture remained slouched, almost human in its looseness, but her eyes—her eyes —
They had changed.
The soft, pleading look had drained away, leaving something eerily vacant in its place. Detached. Unfeeling. As if something inside her had flickered off like a dying lightbulb. Their gaze never wavered, pinning Kobeni in place like a butterfly on display.
Kobeni felt something cold curl in her stomach.
“Look at me.” The words were quiet, almost gentle, but they carried a weight that crushed the space between them, leaving no room for disobedience.
Kobeni’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked onto Death’s.
The dark rings encircling Death’s pupils pulsed, expanding outward like ripples in an abyss, endless and consuming. It was a pull, subtle at first, then suffocating—a gravitational force that made it impossible to look away. The can in Kobeni’s hands felt distant, her fingers numb against the slick condensation, like the sensation had been stripped away from her entirely.
Death took another step forward, and suddenly, Kobeni’s lungs seized, her chest tightening with an invisible force, as though the act of breathing itself had become an afterthought—unnecessary. Death wasn’t touching her, wasn’t raising her voice, wasn’t even doing anything but existing in that moment, and yet—
The pressure was unbearable.
It wasn’t physical, not in the way hands could push or hold or trap. It was something deeper. Heavier. Like the very concept of leaving, of escape, of stepping even an inch away had been plucked from reality and erased before she could even think to act on it.
Death tilted her head, the motion slow, measured, like a creature watching something small . Her expression wasn’t unkind. If anything, it was gentle—curious, even. The way her gray eyes traced over Kobeni’s face, how her lashes lowered slightly, how her lips barely parted with the barest breath of amusement.
It was the same look a cat gave a mouse. Not when it first spotted its prey, but after —when the chase had already ended, when it knew, without a shred of doubt, that there was no escape.
“If you disappear,” Death murmured, voice steady, unshaken, as if it were the simplest truth in the world, “I’ll find you.”
Kobeni wanted to move. Wanted to step back. Wanted to turn her head, to close her eyes, to do anything but remain frozen beneath that gaze. But she couldn’t. Because Death was looking at her, and that alone was enough to keep her exactly where she was.
Then, just as suddenly, the tension snapped.
Death’s entire posture collapsed in on itself, as if something inside her had cracked, leaving her barely holding herself together. The rigid stillness that had gripped the air just moments ago shattered into something raw, something fragile. Her shoulders trembled, her lips parted, and her gray eyes glistened like she was on the verge of tears.
“You don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice thin, stretched tight with desperation. It wavered, pitching up for just a moment before she swallowed it back down. “You’re mine. You made a contract with me. Why—why do you act like that doesn’t mean anything?”
Kobeni forced herself to breathe, to steady the lump forming in her throat. “That’s not—it’s not like that.”
Death surged forward, fingers wrapping around Kobeni’s wrist. The grip wasn’t bruising, but it wasn’t loose either. Just firm enough to keep her in place, just enough to make it clear that letting go was a choice that Death would have to make, not her. “It does.” Their fingers twitched slightly against Kobeni’s skin, as if they wanted to squeeze tighter but was forcing themself to hold back. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re the first human I’ve wanted in centuries.”
Kobeni’s breath hitched.
Death let out a small, trembling laugh—shaky and breathless, like she had barely gotten the words out. Her grip loosened just slightly, her fingers relaxing against Kobeni’s wrist, but she still didn’t let go. “Do you know how rare that is?” Her breath came out uneven, sharp around the edges, as if she were trying to steady herself. “How special that makes you?”
For a moment, there was only silence between them. The hum of the convenience store lights buzzed faintly overhead, a distant, meaningless sound.
Then, in a voice so quiet it barely reached her, Death asked—
“Do you hate me?”
The words carried something different now. Something smaller.
Kobeni stared at her—at this deceptively normal-looking girl with unkempt white hair and oversized sleeves that swallowed her hands. At the slight slouch of her shoulders, the way her expression had folded into something that looked almost… human .
If she hadn’t already known—if she hadn’t made that desperate, fearful contract—she never would have guessed that the person standing in front of her was Death itself . The most feared devil in existence.
“No,” Kobeni said, and she hated that it was the truth.
Death’s fingers twitched again, then tightened around Kobeni’s wrist, the pressure just shy of painful. Her nails barely pressed into skin, not enough to bruise, but enough to remind Kobeni of the strength coiled beneath that deceptively human frame.
Then, just as swiftly as before, her expression shifted. The fragile vulnerability in Death’s face drained away, as if it had never been there at all. The slight tremble in her voice, the sheen of emotion in her eyes— gone. What replaced it was eerily smooth, eerily calm. A face wiped clean of feeling.
“You can never leave me,” they whispered, almost to themselves. Then, louder this time, the softness replaced with something demanding: “You won’t leave me.”
The overhead lights flickered, the dull hum of electricity spiking into something sharp, almost angry . The air thickened, the temperature dropping just enough for Kobeni to feel it seeping beneath her skin, curling cold fingers around her ribs.
Kobeni shuddered.
Death didn’t react. She simply watched —that same unnerving, unwavering stillness. Not like a person, not like something bound by breath or heartbeat, but like a force of nature. Something vast and endless.
And then, slowly, gently , she uncurled her fingers from Kobeni’s wrist.
The absence of her touch burned in its own way, leaving behind the phantom weight of something claimed .
A soft smile tugged at the corners of Death’s lips, but it was empty—an expression formed out of habit rather than feeling. Her gray eyes, ringed with that unnatural void, remained unreadable. “I’ll see you soon,” she murmured, voice dipping into something almost affectionate.
She lifted a hand, fingers hovering just above Kobeni’s cheek—so close that Kobeni could feel the chill radiating from them.
A hesitation.
A breath.
And then—
She was gone .