A woman in a black robe glided down onto the rooftop from the starry sky. The somber expression she wore did not leave her countenance despite her best attempt at collecting herself.

Quietly, she approached the person a few steps away from her. Their expression couldn’t be identified under the darkness of night. However, their facial features could still be vaguely discerned thanks to the distant light below them.

The woman settled down beside the person, staring at the lively street below. For minutes, they say in silence. They watched the people celebrate the new year, beaming as they chatted with their loved ones.

Eventually, the woman pulled back her hood, letting her flowing black hair rest by her waist. She settled her tool at the side and leaned sideways toward her companion.

“Why did you summon me with the Scythe Card?” she asked.

Slowly, the person inhaled as though it took them all their strength to do so. Then, they slouched forward, their focus still blankly aiming at the streets below.

“They look happy, don’t they?”

The woman set her gaze upon the colorful stalls once more. “They do.”

A brief silence. Then, the person spoke again. “I want to be there, down the streets, smiling happily without a care in the world, too.”

“Then why aren’t you, August?”

The person snorted, grew silent, and spoke again. “I’ve forgotten how direct you are. It’s a sign that it’s been too long since we last met.”

“August…” The woman turned toward the person, staring at him with a mix of concern and sorrow. “Why did you call for me?”

A weary sigh escaped August’s lips. “I’m tired, Dea.”

Their voice was small, so tiny that they could barely hear themself.

Dea lifted her hand hesitantly but eventually gained the courage to hold their hand.

“I told you I’d never regret helping you restore your lost memories. I lied.” August tightened their hand around hers. “Back then, I withheld the truth because I believed fulfilling your greatest wish is more important than anything I want. How could I not after seeing how so many people used the Scythe Card? Now, I can’t help but regret my actions.”

The woman’s eyes widened ever so slightly, but there was no surprise in them.

“Ironically, the days I spent the most with the living incarnation of death were the days that I felt most alive. I would often look back on those days, smiling as I did, wishing things could stay the same.” August gently patted her hand. “You know, I was fine at first, and a long, long time after that. Facing my own mortality almost every day has numbed me to any fear this world has to offer. Sometimes, I wish it didn’t, that I’d be left with some fear to…”

They smiled bitterly. “What am I saying?”

“I’m…” Dea lowered her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit you more often.”

“Are you?” Raising his volume, August turned to her with an almost angry look. Then, they shifted their gaze back to the street, uttering in a tiny voice. “I’m sorry.”

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An uncomfortable silence settled in the atmosphere as fireworks went off in the sky, its colors flashing on their faces.

“Sometimes,” August rubbed his thumb on the back of Dea’s hand. “Deep in the night, I wish I never met you. Those days were so happy that I could never move past them. Collecting the Scythe Cards, living together, having late-night talks… I never expected those happy memories to gnaw at me years after our time together was over.”

A tear dropped onto her skin.

The mountains of words in Dea’s mind waited to be uttered, but none left her lips. Her ability to comfort them, her humanity, disappeared the day she finally regained what she lost. And yet, it did not make her happy.

“I tried, Dea.” August sniffed. “I tried so, so hard to move on. I kept reminding myself about the people we saved after snatching their Scythe Cards away. Again and again, I forced myself to remember the reasons that led to their use of the Cards and how I must persevere. That life is worth living regardless of the hardships one faces.”

“August…”

“When I attended Zeal’s funeral, something inside me broke. For so many years, I held on to our promise that you’ll visit us again. I swore I’d lead a life that you’d be proud of. But after that day…” More tears rained down the back of the woman’s hand. “I couldn’t anymore, not when you didn’t even show up.”

“I tried to, August!” Dea held his hand with both of her hands. “I did all I could--”

“But you didn’t.” Lifting their head, August stared at her with an anguished smile. “Because Death belongs to no one, isn’t it?”

Biting her lip, Dea wanted to say something, anything, yet...

“Don’t bother. I expected this much from you.” Indifferently, August withdrew their hand and settled it back on their lap, peering at the scenery below.

Dea reached her hand out for him, but this time, she didn’t touch him again.

Before silence could settle once more, they spoke. “Though I learned many things from our encounters with the Scythe Card users, a part of me always had a feeling that the same day may come for me. When the weight of living is too much to bear, and there’s nothing left to see.”

“Is that why you hid the last Scythe Card from me?” asked Dea with a hint of disappointment.

“Yes.” August pulled out a black card with silver edges from their left pocket. “It was just an insurance, in case our method of communication was lost like you suggest it may.” They chuckled. “Who could’ve thought the problem was you, not the method?”

“You know I don’t perceive time the same way as mortals anymore.”

“And you said our bonds will never diminish because death will always be the shadow of the living, always be by our side.” Gritting their teeth, they gripped the card.

Dea could offer no retort.

“I made friends, found a job I love, traveled the world, spent every last minute of my life trying to be happy, trying to live to its fullest. I don’t want to have regrets like all the people we met on our journey. In the end, it didn’t matter.” August lifted the card into their sight. “The hole you left behind in my heart, in everyone’s heart, was too big to be filled. We all missed you for every day of our lives.”

“I can do better, August.” Dea rose, her voice tinged with desperation. “I promise I’ll visit everyone more often. We’ll have our late-night chats like we used to every Sunday and ice cream every Wednesday night. I’ll do better, so please…” She stretched her hand toward the card. “Don’t use the Scythe Card. I want to see you again, in this life or the next.”

“Is that all it took?” August smiled bitterly. “I flash the card in front of your face, and you immediately promise to do better? Ha. Ha ha ha… Why didn’t I do this years ago? That way, at least Zeal would’ve been able to meet you one last time.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice trembled. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late for apologies now.” With great effort, August stood, facing her and placing the card on her palm. “I’m done. One way or another, I’m leaving with you together tonight. It’s your choice whether you take us home or take my soul.”

“August--”

“I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t have anything to live for. I don’t care if our friends will miss me. I don’t care if there is more to see in this world. It doesn’t matter. I’m sick of waiting for joy, pure, unfiltered joy, to return to my life. I never asked you to do anything for me. This is my first and only request. So, what will it be, o’ Lady Death? Break the rules, or break my heart again?”

For the first time in eons, Dea was in a dilemma. Though her human heart was long gone, its heartbeat echoed still in her empty chest. She didn’t know what to do, what to think.

Eventually, as the first ray of the rising sun spilled from the horizon, Death made her decision, and she opened her mouth.