Chapter Text
1.
Truthfully, it was a whim.
Shiki has precious little faith left to give and this is a world to which he owes nothing - the descent of a lofty angel with delusions of grandeur could scarcely move his paper heart any more than a butterfly might hope to shatter a boulder with its wingflaps.
But even on blackened wings an angel remains an angel.
(Some contractors are harder to forget than others; their lives and requests lingering like creases and eraser marks.
Children shouldn't smile like that, greeting the spectre of death like an old friend. Their wants should be elaborate, extravagant things - not a simple, unobtrusive wish that no shikigami could hope to fulfil.)
The first time he meets Ashkariel the words come to his lips unbidden “The world you wish to rule over, do you promise it will be kind?”
If the angel is taken aback it shows in only the briefest flicker of his expression “I am a benevolent saviour, I see no reason it would not be”
Shiki gives a considering hum and simply nods his head “Alright then - lead the way”
(There was a boy once, whose most ardent wish was to live to 11.
To surpass the decade he was predicted to scrape by. To offer his mother another year of too-bright smiles and hard-fought hope.
They begged of Shiki's time to keep that boy company, that the presence of a strong spirit might help correct a failing heart whose arteries choked on ambient mana, as if another looming spectre could ward off the end.
Hikari knew better and asked for nothing more of him, even as others begged and cajoled behind too thin walls.
Shiki offered only once, to grant a wish in lieu of a tomorrow.
Hikari had smiled, shaking his head.
“You shouldn't waste your strength. My only wish, is that the angels are kind when they come for me”)
Shiki Katagami owes this world nothing, and the path he walks will be his and his alone.
To see a dead boy's wish to fruition, that too, is nothing but a whim.