Overtime

The last time Rinne wore that expression was five minutes after Sakura wheeled her life—three suitcases, two purses, and one overstuffed backpack—into the center of his studio apartment when they were twenty three. Sakura was practically wheezing when she told him, "I want to live with you, Rinne." It was more of a demand than a desire and once she could finally stand up without having to brace herself by the knees, she shrugged off her purses and backpack for emphasis.

Rinne never tried to influence her decisions so it didn't surprise her when all he could say was, "You deserve more than this." It was the only sentence he formed that whole night and Rinne wasn't necessarily wrong. The place he and Rokumon called home was maybe three steps above their rundown school club house, but Sakura was tired of co-workers proposing to her and even more exasperated at how moody Rinne got once he found out about them.

Even if meant never using the clunky A/C unit morphing from the window during the summer, or sharing the bathroom with everyone else in the hall, or dealing with blasts of cold air in the winter and raindrops from future ceiling leaks, or noisy neighbors—they would be okay. If it meant that they would be able to continue helping souls pass on together, Sakura knew they'd be just fine. "It's enough." And she was right.

She told him that then, settling the issue on the spot, but Sakura wondered if maybe she should recycle the sentence since Rinne apparently placed escorting her to the Wheel of Reincarnation on the same level as moving in with him. Call it intuition, but she figured that "it's enough" wouldn't have the same affect on Rinne this time. Death was an everyday occurrence for both of them—she hadn't wanted to change that.

Earlier she had stood next to Rinne at her funeral; it was a bit weird to watch since she felt very much alive, but she stayed in place, hand clamped onto Rinne's shoulder. She couldn't help it after noting how even his best indifferent expression couldn't cover up that wooden-plank worthy rigid posture. He talked to everyone in one of her father's black suits and because he didn't look a day over twenty-five, it still fit better than any glove. "I'm right here." Knowing that didn't stop him from staring at her like a time-bomb though.

Usually Rinne flew ghosts to the Wheel of Reincarnation, but today he chose to walk. They just made it to the street vendors bordering the Entry of Contentedness; the silence that stretched in between them illustrated to Sakura that something was bothering him. Sakura wanted to ask, but it didn't seem appropriate. The two had spent most of their lives together so now was the worst time to feel like an insecure teenager about everything. That's why Sakura hooked her arm around the familiar folds of the haori of the underworld then casually grasped Rinne's hand. She knew it must've felt odd to have her hand—with all its sunken skin and protruding veins—sit in his, but he never reacted, even when she was alive. These were her last few moments as Sakura Mamiya and she was thankful to be spending them with Rinne Rokudo.

"I remember the last time I was here," she told him, sounding surprisingly happy as she took in all the new old faces. "Everyone kept asking me if I had any unfinished business and they were so happy that I went with the flow. I think I really understand them now, though."

Rinne offered her a crooked smile, one that was nowhere near as genuine as his salesman smile. "That's because it's easy to get swept up in the atmosphere in this area."

"Are you happy now?" Sakura inquired, not bothering to listen to his response. She died an old woman, but could walk ten times faster than the pace Rinne set for them. "I wonder what Ageha will do once she realizes I'm gone," Sakura mused, staring at the string of lanterns lining a vendor specializing in dolls.

Ever since she had been able to see ghosts, Sakura wasn't afraid of death—maybe dying, but not what happened afterwards. Then she met Rinne and it was suddenly too hard to be afraid of the inevitable in general.

"She's still trying to take my old man down; won't be back for a while... I think," Rinne answered.

Sakura nodded, watching as one of the elderly men tried catching a goldfish at the vendor across the street from the doll one. "That boot-camp her parents sent her to really helped. I mean, I never thought she'd learn to pass on souls like you. It definitely made things easier for Oboro."

"Yeah," Rinne hummed and Sakura let the small smile she'd been hiding spread out. "Jumonji's going to whip himself back into shape so he can kick my ass when I tell him you made it to the wheel," Rinne mumbled, finally looking down at Sakura with shiny, red eyes. He matched her smile with a smirk, revealing his white teeth. They stretched across his cheeks without crinkling the skin like Sakura's.

"You'll have to answer his new year's letter when you get to the other side," she reminded him. In their senior year of high school, Tsubasa transferred again. He claimed that he'd be back to make Sakura his, but it was hard for him to leave behind the niche his—finally—successful exorcisms created. Instead of returning, Tsubasa wrote Sakura a letter every year. After a while he finally stopped signing them with "Love."

If it was even possible for Sakura to feel more at ease with herself when Rinne scoffed and grounded his stare in front of them, she did. "Isn't Tsubasa more tolerable than Matsugo though?" Rinne hadn't seen him since the Incident in English 101 freshman year of college.

"Sakura Mamiya!" He blurted out, throwing her hand back to her side. Clearly, Tsubasa informing them about how successful he was without Rinne's interference was preferable to thinking back to the Incident in English 101.

"At least Shoma didn't turn out too bad, right?" Shoma inherited his family fortune. If you asked Rinne about him on a good day, he'd tell you that Shoma was still an overachieving brat, but that didn't stop Rinne from helping him grow as a shinigami. "Oh, and how about when my mother passed on. Do you remember how shocked she was that you were leading her to the Wheel of Reincarnation? Or that I could see her?"

"Yeah, and your dad tried to kill me; he almost turned into an evil spirit," Rinne countered. "Would've been better if he did. I would've gotten a better reward..."

Sakura sighed and stared at the twirling sky above them. It was a mesh of bright colors that twirled in whirl pools, some of which were spirit roads, others, she assumed, were clouds. Maybe if she didn't know this process like the back of her hand she would've been as stiff as Rinne, but there was nothing to feel upset about at this point. "Did Auntie Tamako tell you how I'll come back?" She asked, taking Rinne's outstretched hand.

They flew over the river instead of flowing down it from the comfort of one of the boats; it was more of a lazy river which explained the need for both a guide and a paddle. Rinne rivaled the boats without passengers or guides. Rinne acknowledged Sakura with a low hum, smoothening out his bunched sleeve. "You'll be a calico."

Rinne explained to Sakura a long time ago that only those with particularly strong spirits were immediately reborn as humans. Sakura was "odd," but she wasn't extraordinary. Being a cat was probably ten times better than becoming a mackerel like Rinne's grandfather.

He set them down as if they were on thin ice, not asphalt and Sakura stared at the stupefied, blissful faces around them. They encouraged her to shed the urge to memorize every part of Rinne's face which was her last tie to being Sakura Mamiya. Her memories of him would vanish in minutes so was it even worth stressing over? "I've had so much fun in this life and it's all because of you." No, it wasn't.

She couldn't help but laugh at Rinne's reaction. He always was surprised by stuff like that. "Really?"

Sakura nodded her head vigorously, stepping in time with the line. "Yup. Promise me that you'll find me again so we can make new memories in my next life."

"Alright..." Rinne agreed as a blush blew across the bridge of his nose. "I'll do it."

Rinne lifted her onto one of the red tiles and planted her square in the center. When she was settled he held her hand again. "Great," she began, not fighting the pull the wheel had on their grip. "Now I truly have no attachments."

Sakura Mamiya always said the most bizarre things and Rinne floated off the ground, keeping their hands level, to get one final clarification. He needed to know whether she meant that this whole time she'd been an earth-bound spirit because she wanted Rinne to make a promise or was it because she wanted him to take her to the Wheel of Reincarnation? "Excuse me, sir," the toll worker interrupted, tugging on the bottom of his haori. "Shinigami are not permitted beyond this point, please step back onto the platform."

"Right. Sorry," Rinne muttered, slowly lowering himself until Sakura's hand slid like butter from his.

Rinne and Sakura used to wear practically matching blazers and slacks to work. All those times when she used to tug on his sleeve to remind him that "the only person we should be pacifying until 6:30pm is the manager" evaporated and he didn't know what to do.

Rinne got too comfortable relying on a human and he could feel the consequences in the weight of his pout.

Sakura Mamiya was fading into the translucent souls behind her and it took a lot of guts for Rinne to keep his eyes focused. He searched her entire face for the moments when they were in high school and he walked a tightrope with their relationship. Her backpack was gone, her uniform was gone, and she hadn't put her hair in braids after Yumi made fun of her for it, but maybe—just maybe— he'd be able to go back. The years were there after all, lined up along the crow's feet that swelled every time she laughed. Rinne led plenty of old women to the wheel, but none had crow's feet like Sakura Mamiya. All the women he'd guided had the same dull hair and heavy wrinkles regardless of how kind they might have been so Sakura Mamiya was definitely the most beautiful.

"Goodbye."

Sakura asked him to find her—it was a naïve request, but the same life was never lived twice. "Goodbye, Sakura Mamiya," he whispered. Raising his right hand up to wheel, he smiled and waved back at Sakura as she blended in with its bright reds and golds. Rinne concentrated with eyes open to remember the path her veins etched onto his palm.

-X-

Rainstorms in the spirit world were never welcomed since they were the result of a raincloud sprit's leftover pollution. When it rained, every drop contained harsher acidic PH levels which weakened rooftops much faster than in the human world and after awhile, a collective smell accumulated—the aroma in the streets ranging anywhere from gym-short-soaked-puddles to shit. The only good thing that came from them was the ¥1,000 reward paid to any shinigami who helped clear the stench and repair leaky roofs. Rinne could've used a rainstorm now; at the very least he could pretend that nature was in synch with his emotions and at the very opposite end of the spectrum he'd leave tomorrow ¥1,000 richer.

Walking towards the Wheel of Reincarnation was meant to feel unbearably long and when Rinne let go of her hand, he purposely let his fingers slide across each skin cell until the wheel had lifted Sakura away. Despite his efforts, it all felt like a short thirty seconds. Apparently time was more numb to death than a shinigami.

Rinne told Rokumon that he'd be back once he guided Sakura to the Wheel of Reincarnation, but he could feel his entire body sagging like a sodden, rotten log. It would be too hard to look at anyone without feeling as if he were troubling them. Plus, he wanted to remain on this side just in case that rainstorm decided to show up.

"Granny," Rinne stated loudly, sliding the door open and walking into Tamako's house. It was the only place he could stand to be and like clockwork, Tamako materialized to rub Rinne's temples. He was still standing the genkan.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to—Rinne!" She hadn't expected his forehead to fly from her knuckles to her shoulder. Or for the both of them to crash into the hallway. "Rinne?" She asked, raising a brow at the chipped, worn dress shoes his toes dangled over. His back and shoulders rose and fell without rhythm and when she ruffled Rinne's hair, Tamako swore she heard an intake of breath that was way too sharp to be considered normal. "What kind of shinigami are you—crying over something as common as death?"

"I'm a human," he reminded her as he rested his chin on her shoulder blade and stared around at her polished wood floors. "Kind of thing."

-X-

AN: I have no idea where Takahashi plans on taking Rinne and Sakura's relationship and quite frankly, I don't think she knows either. Regardless, Sakura and Rinne make an easy BROTP or an OTP which is why I left their own memories open for your interpretation. My headcannons about their futures don't change all that much regardless of whether or not they choose to trade their friendship in for something romantic. Okay, well, how often they make-out and have sex with each other does change, but that's about it.