My first fanfiction! Wow, I'm really excited as I upload this. I hope you all like it!

This takes place loooong before the original story by Currygom, the Sura and humans have only recently cut ties. Yama, Brahma, and other characters that I feel should get more love than they do star in this fic.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kubera

Chapter 1: On Death and the Paperwork It Creates

Two armies fought above a sea of stars and planets. One side was formed from the essence of the universe, beings of fire and water, shadow and light. The other side was made up of huge beasts, snakes, insects, birds, fish, and dragons. The giant creatures easily crushed the smaller and weaker beings.

Suddenly, an enormous scorpion let out a terrible squeal, and fell down onto one of the planets below, ichor flowing out of a huge crack in its exoskeleton. The impact of the scorpion hitting the barren world smashed its crust to powder. The great creatures and elemental beings paused, watching in horrid fascination, as for the first time in the universe, life ended. The huge scorpion twitched, gurgling in the midst of its death throes, and finally went still.

As battle resumed, a darkness rose from the body, collecting to form the vague shape of a man. Another man appeared, wearing simple clothing, with messy brown hair that covered his eyes. He reached out towards the man-shape, and spoke a word. The shape collapsed inward, becoming a man with long brown hair tied back, deep green eyes, and black robes, with diagonal silver slashes across the chest. The second man looked around wildly, then asked,

"Where am I? Who are you? Who…who am I?"

"My name is Visnu." the first man said, smiling. "And you are Yama, God of Death. Welcome to existence, Yama."

*I*

Hell was an imposing place, with skies darkened by soot and ash, cliffs that rose and curved like a Yaksha's massive claws, and lakes of fire that bubbled and hissed angrily. Despite appearances, it was actually quite a nice place, so long as you stayed away from the sinners' area. The warmth created by the lava pools made it a relaxing place to work for the Gods with heavier workloads. That is, so long as you were allowed to work.

Yama flipped through the pile of forms on his desk, trying to ignore the God standing in front of him, tapping his foot impatiently. It seemed like the Sura had somehow destroyed another city. A lot of these seemed to be coming from the same area and time.

"Yama, did you here what I said?" Why couldn't Visnu have given the humans a little more longevity? Or even just made them a little sturdier? They were just so much work.

"Yama!" A sword of blinding light stabbed down into the paper Yama held. "Don't you ignore me!" Yama stared at the sword.

"Surya." he said. "If that sword isn't out of my desk in two seconds, I will kill you and kick you down so deep into Hell that you won't come out for a billion years."

The God of Light hastily withdrew his sword. Surya wore highly polished armor, and flawlessly styled blonde hair flowed down to his shoulders. His normally handsome face was ruined by a sulking expression.

"Sorry," he muttered, "but won't you at least listen to me?"

"No." Yama snapped. He waved his hand across the paper, sealing the hole Surya had made. "I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is no, and will always remain no, no matter how many times you ask. Now go away!"

"Come on, Yama! You just have to extend her lifespan! You haven't seen her! She's got hair like a sunrise, eyes like the noon sun sparkling on the ocean, and her figure–."

"I don't give a shit. This is the third time for the sixteenth priestess that you've asked. How many times will it take for you to realize that your incredibly detailed descriptions of your human lovers and their skills will not sway me?"

"Please, Yama? I beg of you, Lord of Death, Master of Lives, Deadliest of Gods; do me a favor! Look, why don't I bring you out of this hole, introduce you to some goddesses who like dark and brooding types. Maybe then you'll understand–."

"SURYA! GET OUT!" Yama roared, rising from his seat. If Surya had learned anything from his time spent pestering Yama, it was how to recognize – eventually – when not to push the death god any further. Surya flashed brightly, shooting out of Hell as a beam of light.

Yama sat down with a sigh. He wouldn't be back, at least not for this priestess. She would be almost past her prime by now, given the accelerated flow of time here.

He slammed a seal down on a form, almost tearing the page. Damn humans. When they lived, they created paperwork for Indra. When they died, they created paperwork for him. When the other Gods came to pester him about extending a human's lifespan, his paperwork backed up. When the other Gods went off to fight the Sura, humans inevitably got caught in the crossfire, somehow, which created even more paperwork for him. He snatched for the next form, and his hand seized empty air.

Yama blinked and look to his left. A young girl with purple hair wrapped in a gray turban with round pigtails on the sides stood there, shuffling through forms and sealing them even faster than Yama could; making neat piles on the desk.

"Hello, Brahma. It's nice to see you again. Agni's not here though. As always." he finished darkly.

"Mmm. I know. I just saw Surya booking it, so I thought I'd come see how you were doing." she said. Yama sighed and turned back to his work.

"The same as always. There's too much to do, and you and Indra are the only ones who ever lend a hand."

"What about your subordinates?" Brahma asked. Another pile started.

"Hah! All they do is process the souls, which turn into this." He waved at the mountain of paperwork. Brahma studied him, chewing her gum.

"You need a vacation." she said at last.

"What?" Yama said.

"A vacation. I'm sure you've at least heard of it in theory. You stop working, go somewhere else with nice weather and good food, and you relax. Unwind."

"I know what a vacation is, Brahma." Yama told her grumpily.

"Good. Why don't you take one?"

"Because I don't need or want one." he snapped. "Are suggesting that I become like Agni, and neglect my duties? Or Surya, and chase after anything with two legs and a skirt? Or–?"

"Or me, and sleep all day, everyday?" Brahma said dryly. The pile reached its maximum height without falling over, and another began. Yama grimaced.

"I meant no offence. While one would hope for more work ethic in the God of Creation, at least you occasionally do something productive without needing to be summoned or another God twisting your arm."

"Well, I wouldn't dare suggest you become like those two. I hear Belrin is an especially beautiful planet in the Human Realm." Brahma said.

"Are you listening to me? I said I don't need a vacation."

"Not two priestesses ago, you were able to keep a civil tone of voice with Surya. Today you were on the verge of violence. Indra, one of the few Gods you like, told me you almost snapped his head off a few centuries ago. You're stressed out, wound up, and so full of tension you're going to snap and hurt someone. Being the God of Death, you can hurt a lot more people than most." Yama ground his teeth in frustration, but he kept himself from snarling at Brahma. She was only trying to help, and besides, snarling at her would only prove her right.

"Brahma." he said, perfectly in control. "I am fine. I assure you, I don't need a vacation." The goddess eyed him, blowing a bubble with her gum.

"Well, all right. If you say so." The second pile reached maximum height. "I'll see you later, then. Vritra should be back in his den by now. He's nearly as good as Agni's weapon for napping." She vanished. Yama shook his head, and sent on the piles she'd sorted, which made up at least half the desk's paperwork. It irked him slightly, that she worked so little yet was more efficient at his job than he was. A vacation. When would he ever find time to take a vacation? The humans had a phrase, "you can rest when you're dead." This bit of wisdom seemed to apply to the God of Death as well. He'd never catch a break, not until the end of the Universe.