Due to the severe amount of consecutive depressive deaths of my favorite characters, I coped through listening to music. Now, I will share how I coped with you. This one is rough for me, as, being a huge fan of RvB, when my friend introduced me to Rooster Teeth's RWBY, I was pretty into it. I found a favorite character, and that character got ship teased to the moon with the one who was easily my second favorite.

Well, you probably know where this is going. I wrote this while listening to "Work Song" by Hozier.

Shining Souls

A one shot

It was a very long day for me today.

This world of colors- Remnant- was in chaos. War, if you will. And war was my business. I had to carry many souls. I had to remove those of children from their bodies while their fathers, mothers, begged me to let them stay.

I'm sorry, strangers, it's my job.

But one soul in particular was a tough one.

What was her name? Pyrrha, yes, Pyrrha Nikos. Beautiful one, she was. She had the looks to make every other woman in the world green with envy, and the strength of twenty men.

She shone.

We all have to die sometimes. Even the pretty ones. Even the strong ones.

I came up to the young lady.

"Excuse me ma'am. It is time for us to walk together."

It was a soft and gentle voice. Tinged with regret. "No…"

She thinks I can't hear her, but I can. I can see through her. Her wounded heart. She's holding a torch for a lucky boy. He doesn't know she's gone yet.

"You'll see him someday soon, my dear."

"I won't leave him like this!" she cried

"You must." I told her. "You must."

"Just one more kiss, one more minute, please!" she pleaded.

Now, you think I have no soul. This is true. If I had a soul, I would have to take it, as part of my job. I couldn't trust myself to do that,

But I have a heart.

"I would, if I could, my dear." I said. "But it's not allowed."

She tried to hit me. Brave girl.

The strikes hurt, I will not lie, but I didn't waver. I stood there, taking them in, until she exhausted herself. When it happened, she fell to her knees, her face buried in the long trailing coat I wore.

And she cried.

It hurt me, to hear those cries, it always does. My heart breaks as they beg to say everything they left unsaid. But this one was so young, so innocent, and for some reason…

Her cries spoke to me.

I turned, my cloak leaving her grasp. She looked up as I removed my hood and knelt down. I brought myself down, shifting my shape to a form not much taller than hers. Her eyes met mine, and I saw fear.

I'm not pretty. I was, once, in the beginning, but I age. Slowly, compared to the rest of you. My hair went gray after a millennia, and the skin began to tighten and wrinkle after three. I looked now like a man at death's door.

"My dear, I am sorry."

She lowered her head and began to cry once more, and it broke my heart again. She looked so young for a warrior. Just a child…

So I did for her what I did for all the children.

I embraced her.

They say my embrace is cold, all these writers and storytellers, but it is not so cold at all. They tell me it is warm, soft, a small comfort, to know that even Death is… well, human.

"I n-n-never told him… I didn't want to die, I did-didn't know I was going to-"

"We never do, my dear. We always think we have just enough time, when we have so little. It is not fair, but I am forced to do my job."

"I h-h-have to tell him."

"You cannot, my dear..."

One time breaking the rule wouldn't hurt.

"… Very well. Follow me. We will see him."

A BAR IN VALE

A man with a guitar sat on a small stage, strumming out a mellow tune as the patrons drank the night away. There was no dancing tonight- no one felt like it. I recognized the man- Qrow Branwen was his name. I had claimed a woman today that did nothing but fret over him. Winter Schnee.

Rich and poor are all the same to me.

"Boys workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat

There's nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me…"

One of the patrons is a little young, to the bartender. His blonde, scruffy hair is caked in dirt and what appears to be dried blood.

"Aren't you a little young for this place, son?" he asked.

The boy looks at him with bloodshot blue eyes, his face marred by sleepless nights and constant barroom brawls. He had the look of a man who had nothing to live for. In his mind, he doesn't. "Just give me the strongest thing you have."

The bartender sighs. "You lost someone, didn't you?"

"None of your damned business," the boy says.

"The drink won't help you, son," he said, "You'll remember once you're sober."

"Let me fucking drink," growled the boy, his eyes like daggers at the bartender.

The old fellow sighs, and grabs a black cask of liquor.

"When, my, time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave, can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her…"

I hold her hand as she stares at the boy.

"Please don't do this to yourself…"

"We cope in different ways, my dear."

The boy did not want to wait, and grabbed the whole damned cask. He tried to swig as much as he could, and ended up falling on the floor, disoriented.

"Go home, son." The bartender said. "It will get easier. Trust me. I lost my wife a while back."

"Fuck off." He slurred, struggling to his feet and stumbling to the door.

"My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

When I was kissin' on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamp light I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me…"

"Go, my dear, this is the last time you will see him for a long time," I told her.

She steeled her eyes, as she slowly rematerialized in the empty street. I kept watch, to ensure that nothing interfered. She walked on war-weary feet to the boy, who leaned against a lamppost. He was staring at the ground.

"Jaune."

The boy looked up. His bleary eyes wide with shock. 'No, that's not right. She's dead…' His thoughts stopped when her lips met his again.

He tasted like cheap liquor and salt. He looked like he had been through a war. Although saddening, it was also comforting to her. It was proof of how much he missed her.

She tasted like strawberry- like that cheap lip gloss he bought on accident thinking it was chap stick. It was the same brand as the stuff she used. She had laughed for at least an hour. This couldn't be happening, but it was….

She broke off the kiss, mustering her courage. 'Come on, Pyrrha, you're dead. Not like you have anything to lose.'

"Jaune," she said, blinking away tears. "I came back to tell you… I love you. I have since the beginning, and I always will."

The words that were expressed in her last day on Remnant, but never said, hit Jaune Arc like a freight train of emotion. Of course, the feeling was mutual. "I love you, too, Pyrrha… Please, don't leave me again, I can't go on like this!"

"I have to go, my love. I wish I could stay, I really do, but… I have to go… I'm sorry!"

Silence. Then laughter.

"I always thought the way you said that was cute…" He muttered, chuckling. "Just… don't forget me. I want to see you again."

"How could I forget YOU, Jaune?' she asked, her eyes lighting up.

Love.

That's what it looked like, wasn't it?

I watched them quietly, my old, bleary eyes focused on them. He seemed happy, yet resigned. I had never given anyone this chance before, and… it felt strange. They really did just make peace. She didn't run, she didn't try to cheat me. She accepted it.

And that brought me to tears. Silent tears. Just a few. This old man deserves a cry. It always happens with the children.

They kissed one last time, a long, more intense one than earlier. I wanted to leave them like this forever, truly, I did. However, I sensed that it was too dangerous to continue.

"Come, my dear. It is time."

She sighed, and turned away from him, walking towards me. But, she seemed… peaceful.

"Thank you, sir. I'm ready now."

The boy stared holes into. The living cannot see me, of course, but they can sense my presence- some more acutely than others. I took the girl's hand, gently.

"Pyrrha Nikos, it is time we walked together."

Jaune watched her disappear into the night, trying to hold it together a little longer. He got to see her one last time, didn't he?

It was no use.

Everyone looks so ugly when they cry…And it's my fault.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

We are now thirty years removed from Pyrrha's demise. The boy, Jaune, lived a life of adventure, cheating me many times as he cleared a path for himself. He avenged Pyrrha's death with the help of his old friends, and he grew into a fine, handsome man; a fine bachelor, if you will.

No one but I understood why he turned down all those proposals.

Today, he rescued a small child from a Grimm attack. Unfortunately, he sustained serious injuries in the process, and lay now against a tree, apparently trying to keep his viscera from spilling forth and traumatizing the poor child, if he came back with help. The Grimm slowly disappeared into nothing.

They have no soul, they tend to leave my embrace quickly.

Jaune looked at me once more.

"How long has it been, Death?" he asked. "How's the gang?" A pained smile.

I smiled, no, smirked- I would have smiled, if I had teeth, curse these old bones- as I sat next to him.

"They all dread your every move. You've nearly joined them on many occasions, now."

He laughed; a gritty, hollow laugh- I had heard it from many men like him. The old souls, as they say.

"How is she?' he asked, looking up into the overcast sky.

"She is well. She worries for you most," I told him, "for the crowd of womenfolk you attract intimidates her."

We laughed together. Some of those souls would do that. The ones that had no regrets, mostly. They would talk with me for a while, often in the presence of their own bodies. Jaune was still alive, but was far from well. We would walk soon.

"Damn, this hurts…" he said, wincing. He looks down at the wounds he suffered. "Did… did she suffer?"

"She did, according to her, but it was not for long. She did not linger. Cinder had at least a small mercy in her." I admitted, running my palm over where my hair once was.

"Good. Well, that bitch didn't get any from me, did she?" he asked no one in particular.

"Surely not. She didn't even recognize her own body."

"Can you do me a favor, old man? Tell me who all's there right now, waiting for me," he asked.

No harm now, I suppose.

"Yang, Coco, Fox, Velvet, Neptune, Winter, Qrow, Taiyang, Sun, Weiss, Blake, Penny-"

"She had a soul?"

"Anything that can love," I explained, "has a soul. As I was saying, Cardin is there as well."

"He was a good guy in the end."

"I know. He was content when he joined me. You know who else is waiting."

"I sure do…" he said. His soul left his body, and stood up, stretching out. "Alright, old man, time to get a move on," he said, a smile gracing his features again.

I smiled with him. "Indeed, Mister Arc. It is time to walk together."

A/N

I have no shame. It helped me cope. Ever since reading "The Book Thief" when I was 10, the perspective of Death has interested me. I wrote as him to kind of vent. Anyway, if you folks wish, I can do an extra chapter for a certain character who wasn't mentioned in Death's list.