Sakura had always been fairly popular in school; she was pretty, kind-hearted, and easy to approach. She had heterochromia: one blue eye, like her mom, and one green, like her dad. Her skin was the same tone as her brother’s but she had some freckles. Her hair was a bob cut, down to her neck.

She played tennis for her school: varsity singles one—the best on the team. She was smart and talented; everyone loved her.

“Four, four. Love all,” Sakura’s opponent announced. The match was tied, the last one of the season. She needed to pull through or she felt she would let the team down. Her opponent served:

“Out!” yelled the line judge.

“I’ve got this,” Sakura tried to encourage herself. The opponent served her second, it was good. Sakura got up to the ball and returned. They rallied for a few shots and finally:

“Out!” Sakura got the point. She pumped her fist. They continued to play for a bit until Sakura finally prevailed. Now it was her turn to serve, and the match was in her favor: five, four. If Sakura won the next game, she would win the match. She served: good. She got the point. Fifteen, love. She double faulted her next serve and lost the point. Fifteen, all. Sakura lost the next two points. Fifteen, forty. Luckily Sakura came back with two more points and tied it at forty. Deuce. If Sakura gets two points in a row she wins.

“Come on Sakura,” she said to herself. “you got this!”

“Deuce!” She served an ace. Now she had the advantage. She served once again: out.

“Dammit!” she said to herself. Her second serve was in, this was it, if she got the point she would win the match. The stands were so quiet you could hear a pin drop. After a rally that felt like an eternity, the ball soared into the air; this was the one, if Sakura could smash this, there was little chance her opponent could get it. She ran up to the net, racquet raised above her head. Bwap. The satisfying sound echoed through the silent stands.

She did it. Her opponent had no chance of returning, and the ball landed, bounced a few times and rolled to a stop. The stands erupted into cheers, Sakura couldn’t believe it, she felt so relieved. She walked up to shake hands with her opponent. Right before she could, however, she opened her eyes, her alarm ringing loudly.

“Oh,” she said quietly. “School today.”

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Sakura got out of bed and headed down to the kitchen.

“Uhh,” she groaned. “I was having such a good dream.”

“Hey honey,” Sakura’s mom said. “Is Hayato up yet?”

“No,” Sakura responded. “If he’s not up before I finish my breakfast, I’ll go shake him awake.”

“Sounds good,” her mom said. “I’ve got some rice, miso soup, and grilled fish for you.”

“Thanks,” Sakura replied. Sakura finished her meal in ten minutes, per her normal pace, and proceeded to walk up to Hayato’s room. Sakura liked having things uniformed and scheduled; same wake up time, same length of meals, among other things, everyday. Hayato on the other hand, never woke up to his alarm, had to rush often, and didn’t care for schedules.

Sakura came up to Hayato’s door and knocked a few times.

“Hayato?” she asked. “You awake?” No response. Sakura opened the door, and to no surprise, found her brother sleeping at his desk. “Hayato, wake up,” she said loudly. She started to shake him when he wouldn’t respond. “Hayato!” she said, getting angrier, “Wake up, dumbass!”

He finally woke up, groggy and incoherent. They walked downstairs to eat breakfast—Hayato at least. The siblings got ready for school, said goodbye to their mother, and left the house. On their way to school Hayato was annoying his sister about the gaming club he joined.

“Where is the club?” he asked, “Is it right after school? How many people signed up?”

“Woah, slow down,” Sakura started, but before she could answer, well, you know what happened next.

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“Do you have any idea how we can get out of he–”

“You can’t,” a mysterious voice responded from the darkness.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Who’s there?” the siblings asked at once.

“Oh, no one important,” the voice stated. “Just the God of Death.” The voice was terrifying: raspy, deep, and it seemed to emanate from all directions. The voice—not including being suddenly sent to an unfamiliar, pitch-black, abyss—was creepy on its own.

“Y-You’re what?” Sakura almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the statement.

“You heard me,” the self proclaimed god responded. “I’m the God of Death. I am known by many names: The Grim Reaper, Shinigami, Thanatos, Anubis, and many more.”

The, what could only be described as an enormous room, started to illuminate, however, there was still no suggestion that there were any walls or a ceiling. Sakura and Hayato found each other in the dim illumination and huddled together, holding hands so they wouldn’t get separated again.

“Oh,” the god chuckled. “How cute, but, if I wanted to divide you two, holding hands wouldn’t make any difference.” A figure appeared from the darkness; it was probably seven feet tall, wearing a dark cloak that covered its face. He snapped and a piece of paper appeared in the air. He grabbed it and started reading. “Hayato and Sakura Saito,” the god read, “hit by a car, bled out due to injuries.”

“What are you talking about?” Hayato asked. “We’re right here…”

“What?” the god said. “You think I just wanted to meet you because I was a fan? You’re both dead, I’m deciding what to do with you.” The two siblings were in shock.

“B- but…” Sakura whispered, “we were just fine.”

“Well you’re not anymore,” the god sighed. Then, the god pulled off his hood, his face dimly illuminated. “Welcome to Eternal Night,” he said.

The god looked like a… well, normal guy: middle aged, with short, black hair. Except how tall he was, he looked pretty normal. But those pitch black eyes would make anyone disagree. Looking into them felt like looking into a never-ending abyss—like you’d never be able to escape that stare.

He snapped: a cigarette appeared in the air. He grabbed it and shook it in the air, lighting it. He took a puff.

“You kids are young, sixteen and eighteen,” he announced. “I guess it’s a little unfair that you died.”

“Oh!” Hayato said excitedly. “Lemme guess, you’re gonna reincarnate us in a fantasy world with amazing powers!”

“Uh,” the god responded, “I was just planning on asking if you wanted to be reborn in your world, but, I guess if you wanted to, I could send you to a different world; can’t promise amazing powers though.”

“Yes!” Hayato exclaimed. “That’d be awesome!”

“Well, that can be arranged,” the god chuckled. “What about you?” He turned to look at Sakura. At first she was too stunned to respond, still taking in the truth of what happened.

“I’ll go wherever Hayato is going,” she blurted out.

“Well, aren’t you passionate,” the god heckled. “I haven’t told you what to call me. ‘Lord Death’ will work.” The siblings stared at him. “Ok, tough crowd,” he mumbled, “‘Mister’ is fine.” Hayato and Sakura didn’t realize it was a joke so they felt a little bad.

“Uh,” Hayato decided to speak up, “ok, Mister, when can we go?”

“Whenever you want,” the god responded. “Let’s see, I'll give you language comprehension, and a special gift. You’ll figure out what that is later.”

“Oh ok,” Hayato started. “how do we ge–” The god snapped his fingers.

“See ya,” he said, smiling.

Then everything disappeared, or appeared, depending on how you see it. Suddenly, after the darkness they were in before, it felt to the siblings that they were standing on the Sun. Sakura tried to call out to her brother, but only cries came out; she tried to move, but couldn’t. Two people loomed over Sakura and Hayato: one man, one woman. The man looked to be in his late twenties, as did the woman.

“Oh,” the man said. “they’re so cute!”

“I agree,” the woman replied. “but I need to rest.”

This is so awesome! Hayato thought. A new world! I guess these are our new parents. Oh, I’ve only been thinking about myself, I wonder how our parents are taking our deaths. A wave of sadness came over Hayato. Now I feel bad, He thought, we left them behind and just thought of ourselves—me at least, I don’t know what Sakura’s been thinking.

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Mrs. Saito—Hayato and Sakura’s mom—started crying. The funeral service was being held a few days after the siblings’ deaths. Mr. Saito—who was never seen much due to work—took a week and a half off because of the accident. The woman who hit the kids was fined one million yen along with her license being revoked. A family friend was giving a speech about the children, mostly about Sakura because not too many people knew a lot about Hayato. A majority of the people who weren’t family friends came to honor Sakura, although, much to the surprise of the Saitos, one of Hayato’s online friends came by train after hearing that he had died.

“Y’know, not that many people really knew Hayato. I myself, knew him online,” the friend said. “I knew him as a very kind person, he always tried to help others, even when it didn’t benefit him. Whenever he had something he wanted to do, he would push through until he got what he wanted. Though I didn’t know Sakura personally, from what Hayato said about her, I know that she was a very kindhearted person.” He stepped down from the front of the room and made a bow. The small crowd clapped quietly.

“Thank you for coming all this way,” Mr. Saito said. “We’ve never been able to get him out of the house, and I’m away from home so often,” tears formed in his eyes, “Thanks for being his friend.”

“Of course,” the friend said. “it was my pleasure.” The boy walked outside; it was a rainy day, but there was a bus stop shelter he sat under. He snapped: a cigarette appeared in the air. He grabbed it, shook it, and it lit. He took a puff. Lightning flashed. BANG, the thunder sounded like a gunshot nearby. After the light faded the boy had transformed into a middle-aged man, still smoking. “Such a drag,” he groaned. “To think I would do this for some kids I barely know. His parents really thought his online friend would show up on short notice halfway across the country?” The God of Death chuckled. “What a world.”