This mini-fic features Terry Pratchett's Death, so it helps if you've read the Discworld books. And it's a bit silly.
Seishirou opened his eyes. He was a bit surprised to realize that he had depth vision again, but then he looked down at his own body, still hugged by a crying Subaru. The entire world had taken an eerie silvery hue, and the bridge floor had been somehow replaced by black sand. Seishirou took a step back, shaking free of his bloodied remains. There was a thin glowing thread connecting him to his former body.
Being disembodied meant that there were no glands to stand in the way of feelings, and that no mind trick would prevent him now from coldly analyzing every of his actions. Seishirou didn't feel remorse for the people he had murdered, but he remembered that he had told Subaru that he loved him just before dying and now he regretted he hadn't done it years before. It would have saved both of them a lot of pain. He tried to caress the onmyouji's hair, but his hand went straight through Subaru's head.
He heard the sound of hooves behind him and turned around. A dark shape was dismounting from a white horse who looked like the only real thing in that dreamlike landscape.
"Who are you?"
The figure faced him. It was a tall skeleton cowled in a black robe, and Seishirou instantly knew who and what was the stranger. "So... I didn't really think you existed. I never saw you when I killed people."
Death shrugged. It was a very bony shrug. YOU WEREN'T THE ONE DYING. The words seemed to form inside of what at the loss of a better word we could call Seishirou's mind, and they felt cold and hollow like a freshly opened grave. He reached for a scabbard hanging at the side of the horse and drew a scythe from it.
"Can I ask you something? From a professional to a professional..."
YES? Death opened the scythe, and the blade shone in the air cutting stray sakura petals in their flight.
"What happens now?"
THAT DOESN'T DEPEND ON ME. THERE HAS BEEN A SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT IN YOUR CASE. Death strode near Seishirou and cut the silver thread with one skillful blow of the scythe. The shower of sakura petals grew more abundant. Seishirou felt the light breeze turning into a whirlpool, dragging his shadow from the floor, and then there was darkness. And a weird feeling, like the one you get after travelling for hours in a bus.
"Shit isn't it cramped in here?"