45 Personas
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Undertaker
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He remembered very little of his human life, that he was sure of. It had been far too long since he died or should it be would die? His death was one of the few things he could remember with ease although little snippets of his human life often popped up within his mind. Like his hair. He could easily remember that his hair had begun turning a silvery grey long before he became a 'Master of Death'. He certainly remembered a woman-
-with puffy hair and a voice that nagged and nagged though it was always with the best intentions-
-commenting that he looked better with his hair long but not her name or much of what she looked like anymore.
There was a man-
-who was so tall and gangly, so silly in all but chess-
-next to her though, always next to her, but he couldn't be bothered to remember them anymore. Not any longer. Too many years since then and now, was it 'then and now'? Thoughts of that life and this life tend to cross over when he least expected it and always made him frown when it did come.
But he'll brush it off once more, a wide smile on his face as he greets his guests; living and dead. He cares not for the smaller players any longer, not when the major ones are so much more interesting; so much more amusing in an otherwise dull lifetime. The years had made him that much more unstable too, he knows, not that it harmed anyone. Scared them, unnerved them but never harm. No, no, the days where he harmed others-
-demons and dark wizards and silly, silly mages-
-were long past, saved for the days where he had been human and had been the best of the shinigamis. It was too bad that so few could appreciate his brand of madness.
There had been one though; one man who seemed to understand him yet not at the same time.
Pale skin and sapphire eyes; both glowed beautifully against the black silk and moonlight that streamed through the uncovered windows.
His smile disappeared as he thought of his old lover; as it always did when he thought of that cursed family. He looked up at the webbed ceiling, his sight not obscured for once to show enchanting emerald eyes that had once caught the gaze of more than one shinigami and only one human since he had covered them with his hair. But then the eyes of a shinigami often caught the attention of humans when they could see them.
'Ah Vincent,' thought that retired shinigami as he bit into another bone-shaped biscuit from his cookie jar. 'Are you proud of your son right now? Despite his contract with that demon he seems to be growing up well.'
Another biscuit was demolished straight after without notice as he thought of his deceased lover. How long had it been since he last experienced his touch? Definitely more than a dozen years at least; he missed that intimacy enough to not seek out another for his bed. There had been none that could tempt him enough to take them back to his bed.
Ly, the perceptive little nekomata that she was, said nothing of finding another lover at least though she had been dropping by more often to keep him company. He smiled again at the thought of the, ah what was the term again? Yandere? No, no, that was for the nice girls with a temper. It began with a 'tsu' that he could remember. Tsuzuku? No…ah, tsundere that was it. Ly was a very cute tsundere though her cute moments seemed to be limited to calm mothering.
He couldn't help but giggle in his creaky, creepy fashion when he thought of the one time he had seen the nekomata actually blush and act all shy in a cute way; like the perfect example of a tsundere. Miss Sutcliffe had pushed her and Mr. Spears underneath the mistletoe, forcing the two to follow Christmas tradition and kiss- on the lips. He had never seen the spirit look so red before which only deepened when, after the kiss, Mr. Knox kissed the stunned spirit woman himself after Miss Sutcliffe pulled Mr. Spears away.
His giggle turned into a cackle when he remembered, not only how cute the spirit woman had been during the entire episode, but Mr. Spears' entire reaction to what Mr. Knox had done. Why if he hadn't known better, he would've thought that the strict shinigami was interested in the quiet nekomata.
A knock at the door followed by a quiet voice shook him out of his thoughts.
"Undertaker? Are you here?" called out a familiar voice, bringing a wide grin to his face when he smelt the scent of good food. "I brought lunch with me today. I hope you don't mind having phở bò today."
"Come in Ly~!" called out Undertaker gleefully, his emerald eyes shining from underneath his thick silvery grey fringe as he put down his cookie jar to rub his hands together gleefully. He loved eating Ly's phở bò. "And why did you knock dearest kitty~? There's no need to knock when you're al~ways welcome~"
"Well," began the nekomata with a tinge of annoyance in her voice as the door was pushed open to reveal, to his amusement, Ly (dressed in a pretty sapphire blue áo dài in the northern style with white flowers dotting the skirt) and an ash-blonde man dressed in a white suit opening the door for her. "I would have opened the door myself but I'm afraid my arms are full. Mr. Grey here smelt the phở bò on his way here and decided that he'll give me a lift like the gentleman that he is, as long as I brought some 'extra' phở bò with me."
Undertaker let out an amused laugh at Ly's predicament as the nekomata walked in with what looked like the entire pot of broth, a large bag of thick white noodles, a smaller bag of herbs that the spirit had no doubt bought off from a merchant spirit and a bag that contained all the bowls, cutlery and napkins. "Well then, Mr. Grey, I am simply Undertaker, please do join us for lunch," said Undertaker as he beckoned the white clad man closer while Ly began to set up their lunch. "Sit, sit~ we can speak while Ly gets lunch ready~"
Ly rolled her eyes discreetly as she set everything down before pulling the bowls and soup ladle. Undertaker just grinned widely as Mr. Grey sat down on one of the coffins without fanfare. "Now, Mr. Grey," began Undertaker as he laced his fingers together and propped his head on it, grinning widely at the ash-blond man. There is a hint of madness in what still visible of his face, a creaky, creepy laugh ready to leave pale and lightly chapped lips. He was sure that should those of his future-past ever learn of what had happened to him after that battle then they'd be horrified. But he was quite happy with it.
"What can I do for you~?"
Harry Potter had died long ago after all.
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A/N: Well~ this is the first of 45 Personas. If anyone has a suggestion then, please review~ I have a few other characters planned but not a full list yet, haha. I do hope you enjoyed this though~