Disclaimer: I don't own KHR. sadly.
Hi. This is my reincarnation fic, because all authors need one in their life. Also, this first part is surprisingly heavy, because of the death. Future parts will lighten up, and there will be humour, so much humour, but at the start it needs to be dark.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy.
Warnings: Language, Death, and I think that's all.
Death is the only real consistency in the world.
In the end, everyone dies. Some people live long, oh so long, and live life to the fullest, growing old and passing away with little more than a content smile on their face and in the presence of their family. Some people live their hardest until they simply cannot live any longer, burning out like a candle in a snowstorm.
However, some people die before their time. Long before their time. They try to cling to life, praying for an anchor to cling too, but they never can find anything to hold on to and they drift. They lose themselves in life and die because of it. They just go through the motions, as if marionettes in a fool's performance and for all the machinations of the stars in the sky, they are listless.
Ironically, I was neither.
I died because, in the end, why shouldn't it be me.
Cancer is a sad way to go. You slowly wilt, a dying flower losing its vibrancy, starved of the things necessary for survival (long-lost memories of the time before the bed told me it was due to Magnesium, but all I remembered was that it burned prettily before melting away), slowly losing your leaves, and your petals, until all that is left is a stem, a husk of the life left behind.
So at the age of 22, with only my mum as my companion, I lost my final petal.
And so I died.
Before cancer, I had a dream. Or, rather, a lot of dreams. I wanted to be a singer, an artist, an author. I wanted to see the world, meet the Queen, become a teacher, and have a family. I wanted to live, and then die when I had fulfilled everything I wanted to do. Maybe I wouldn't be happy, as who could be happy at the prospect of dying, but at the very least I would be content.
If only wishes were feathers. I'd have enough to craft myself a pair of wings to take me home.
The thing is though; do I even have a home anymore?
I don't have a home anymore. That much is certain. No longer will I be able to take walks through the park, no longer will I be able to stand in the rain that England was so lovingly known for, and no longer will I be able to play in the sun with my little sister.
No longer will I be able to be me.
"Rather dark thoughts, don't you think?" a giggle later and I felt my sanity crack.
Apparently, I wasn't alone here – wherever here was, anyway.
"I'm dead; my thoughts aren't exactly going to be about fluffy bunnies and rainbows. What do you want me to be? All rainbows and sunshine and damn glitter beams? If you want that then fucking go find someone who actually gives a fuck. "
It may have been uncalled for, and I know it was hurtful, but I couldn't help the spark of vindictive pleasure that burned at the sight of her rather pained expression.
She was, well, beautiful, and I could easily see myself falling for her, if the circumstances were only slightly different. A visage that looked as if it was crafted by a god - long, cascading locks of flaxen blonde, and a beautiful pair of aqua eyes – she looked the very image of beauty. But there was something wrong with her, something unnatural, and it unnerved me.
"I suppose I deserve that, huh?" She sighed, her eyes glimmering with something ephemeral, before hardening into frigid sapphires, "but this is neither the time nor the place for such anger, as I need something from you."
I couldn't keep the scowl of my face.
"Well, what do you want? I'm oh so painfully sorry, but as you can see I'm quite clearly dead, very dead. So I don't particularly know how I can help you. I can't even leave this place, so I'm sorry if I'm just a tad bit sceptical as to what I could offer you in terms of assistance." I winced, voice rough and scratchy from disuse, gesturing towards the wide plains of nothing surrounding the pair of us.
Time had lost all meaning here, in this gilded cage of mine, and I had no clue as to how long I've actually spent here. It could have been days, or years, or even moments.
"My name is Sophia, what's yours?" She asked this as if it meant something, as if it was important that I answered correctly.
"My name? David."
Sadly enough, I had almost forgotten it. It just seemed so unimportant, in this great expanse of nothing.
It was as if a heavy burden was lifted over the woman, as if my name, of all things had eased all her troubles.
"Good, that's good. You haven't lost yourself yet."
I haven't 'lost' myself yet? What does that even mean?
The question must have been painted across my face, or something, because she, Sophia, answered.
"This place is the place where all souls go, when they pass on. What you're seeing, this endless white nothing, is in fact a combination of all the souls that have been cleansed of their past life and are waiting, patiently, for their turn to return to the realm of the living as new born babes." She explained.
How she knew all this was beyond me, and I really couldn't care less. All that mattered was that she wanted something.
"So, because I know my name, it automatically makes me eligible for whatever it is you wanted me to do?" Her silence was all the conformation I needed. "So where do I fit in, you hear to cleanse me?"
"I don't know why I bother, but I'm here to give you a second chance."
…Pardon?
I, of all people, was being given a second chance?
Something was wrong.
"Why?" I asked, keeping my face straight as my mind raced. You didn't just shrug of Death like an overbearing Aunt and spring back to life Scott-free.
There has to be a reason for it.
"Someone important has died. Someone who is instrumental to the fate of a world, a world completely different from the one you're from. Someone who we have to replace, otherwise humanity will die." Her voice raised an octave, her body shaking with the enormity of the truth.
"So, I, Sophia of the Mist, am asking, no, imploring you to help me."
"…Mist?" I couldn't shake the feeling that I have heard that somewhere before?
"Yes, Mist. You may not be my first choice – you don't even have the right flame – but you are the first person I've come across and I'm scared and I, no, we need you to accept. So please, promise me you'll help us." she actually reached out to, taking my hand in her smaller one, looking to the world as if she was on the verge of tears.
"So, the fate of humanity, huh?" I mulled it over in my head, the possibilities of what may be reverberating throughout my thoughts.
It was either I did this, or people die. Everyone dies, if I'm lead to believe this woman, and that was something that I couldn't exactly let sit on my conscience for the rest of my non-existence. Or, well, until I melt away into the souls surrounding us.
"Just out of curiosity, who died?" I couldn't help but be curious about the person I'll have to help. Or maybe help wasn't quite the right word; instead, maybe the right word would be save.
"Nadeshiko Nagi, the Vongola's tenth 'Guardiano della Nebbia'. She needs to be replaced, otherwise…otherwise the future that we have foreseen will not come to pass, and we cannot let that happen."
"Nadeshiko…Nagi," I muttered aloud, tasting the name. "I'm assuming that I'm not blessed with the same flame type, this Mist Flame, nor by the sound of it the right gender."
Maybe it was the shock, but I quite feel as if I'm taking this a lot better than I really should be, considering the near impending gender-swap and the futility of fighting against it, but I suppose that's the effect death has on you.
"Don't even get me started on gender, someone's gender identity is a subject I don't really want to tread, otherwise we'll be here for at least a few years," she grinned, an empty, rather emotionless grin, "Oh, and now that you mentioned it, your flame type is, well was, the Sun flame, so really my elder brother should be the one dealing with you, but you're a special case."
Sun, huh. At least I was a star.
"That doesn't mention how we're going to deal with the fact that I don't have the right equipment for the job. Sorry." I'm still stuck on how we were going to deal with that particular glitch in the system, as I don't think throwing me inside a dead girl was gonna work out well, at all.
"Don't worry about that - I have something for that." Sophia smirked enigmatically, as if she had all the answers. But knowing her, she probably already does. "Just leave it to me, and say hello to that future for us."
She may giggle, but it didn't take a genius to sense the melancholy behind the words, as tears started to glisten in those sapphire orbs.
"W-What's wrong?" I tried to step towards her, but couldn't. It was as if I was stuck to the floor.
"It's nothing," She wiped the tears away, and for the first time, I noticed just how young this Sophia of the Mist was. She couldn't be anything more than fourteen, sixteen at most.
"We…we've got work to do. Live for me, will ya?" Sophia didn't stop the tears coming out of her eyes, and the last thing I saw before oblivion devoured us was a glittering purple flame devouring a golden flame, and heard a whispered goodbye.
I never did see Sophia ever again.
Oblivion was suffocating.
It was pain and warmth and constriction all wrapped up into one small, tight package, and I hated it. I loathed it, despised it, lashed out with my arms and legs and struggled futilely in the dark, screaming soundlessly for my own freedom. I almost regretted it, taking Sophia's offer, but I couldn't exactly say no when it was so important.
I don't know how long I've been here, wherever here was, and I can't even see what was going on. My eyes were unresponsive, eyelids glued shut, and no matter how much I tried I couldn't break free.
It was terrifying.
And then it only got worse.
Oblivion shifted, and the constriction exploded.
My body, wherever it was, was being forced, pushed, urged forward, and I could only struggle futilely, kicking and screaming and crying and wondering whywhywhy.
And then it was all over.
"Nadeshiko-san, it's a lovely, beautiful baby girl," a voice, rough and callous with age, hissed out, talking to someone else in the room. I was just glad to be out of the darkness, out of oblivion, and into the open air.
Everything was odd here.
When people say all other senses increase exponentially when you can't see, they were telling the truth. Hypersensitive, I could smell everything. The place I've found myself in is sterile, painfully sterile, the powerful scent of nothing burning my senses, and the sensation of cold rubber on my naked skin made me squirm uncomfortably.
"Nagi, her name will be Nagi."
I blacked out.
The next time I woke up, I found myself here. In this room.
It wasn't a particularly bad room. It was a lilac nursery, and looked like every other nursery out there. There was the small, wooden crib, the slowly spinning ring of fanciful nothings, a stuffed teddy bear (though this one held a blade of some sort in its comforting hands, and weird symbols were emblazoned on the little creature's belly).
But once more, I was alone.
Bad parenting it may be, but I didn't mind. It gave me time to think, to reflect, to ponder over everything that has happened.
My death, Sophia della Nebbia, those 'flames'.
My rebirth, 'Nagi Nadeshiko', my new female body.
It felt…disconcerting, being in essence a self-aware baby. I could spout gospel about Zimbardo, criticise Milgram's experiments and write essays about books, but I couldn't for the life of me open my eyes.
I wasn't David anymore, and that was the one thing that I had to accept the most.
So I can only cry. Cry and cry and cry. Cry for the family I've left behind, my sweet mother who stood by me until my death bed, my elder siblings that couldn't be there even if they wanted to be, and the children that I would never have. I cried for all the 'what ifs' and 'could have beens' and most of all I cried for myself.
I was a dead man walking.
I never even got to say goodbye.
My tears, my cries, must have resounded throughout the household, as it didn't take long for the heavy footsteps of what I'm assuming was my father picked me up out of my crib, cradling me gently in his powerful arms, whispering nonsensical nothings in my ear to calm me down.
I, Nagi, didn't stop crying until I was exhausted.
I cried myself to sleep.
When I woke up the next morning, eyes open, and saw my papa, I made a promise to myself.
I wouldn't cry anymore.
David was dead, killed by cancer at the age of 22.
Nagi was a new life, a new start. A life which I was tasked to keep safe.
I was Nagi now.
The time for mourning had passed, and maybe now it's time to look towards the future.
I dried my tears.
Chapter 1, Complete.
Oh yeah, one more thing. This is my way of practicing first person lol.
If you have any questions, just ask. In a PM, or in a review, and I'll do my best to answer them.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and I'll (hopefully) see you next time~
Signed, HalcyonNight