The ghosts of my past have been laid to rest. The faces of my victims no longer haunt me; their voices no longer cry in my mind. The demons that for so long held sway over my soul have been vanquished. I met each and every one of them face to face and slaughtered them. They no longer have claim over my salvation.

The stains on my hands are the price I must pay for my past deeds. The blood has dried, leaving only the memories behind. I have come to find I can deal with them now. The lives I have taken can never be given back. The victims of my scythe are dead, but they are memorialized by their families and comrades. They are gone but not forgotten, least of all by me.

I'm ready to move on. I need a life of my own away from the hideous reminders of my tainted past. I will have to leave the light that guided me through the terrible darkness. She gave me strength, she gave me hope; she gave me back my soul. Pattern and worn, I live on.

I am surrounded by familiar faces. They went through hell with me and they all know what it is like to be torn apart with guilt over our actions. They all have handled it so differently, though. They have learned to cope in various ways, ways that do not match mine. They laugh and they live and they expect me to move on with them and enjoy life as they do. I know they don't mean me harm, but their expectations…I can't live up to them. Despite their familiarity, their friendship, and their undoubting love, I won't ever be able to change and grow while I remain here.

I have to move on.

I will be loosing my home – the first place I have ever been able to dub as such. That life has come to an end though, and it is time I start anew. I have to keep reminding myself that, in the end, this is better. I will have to survive knowing that I have abandoned those that love me. Guilt and I are well acquainted; I'm sure we'll get along.

I have resigned myself from bearing the name of Shinigami. I no longer can carry such a burdensome title. Death tried to take my life, and when he found that I refused to die he took my mind and my soul instead. Now, he can't have that either. He had his fill during the war. I don't think I'll be hearing from him anytime soon.

I've come to the conclusion that no one should know I'm leaving until I am already gone. They wouldn't understand why or how much I need this and would try to stop me. I'm sure I'll end up leaving one of those cliché farewell letters. Perhaps it is cowardice that urges me to leave without warning. I fear their tears and their anger – I want the last I see of them to be happy and without bitterness, not full of tears and contempt. I want a clean slate to start my new life out on. Leaving with that on my mind would be counterproductive.

Tossing a duffle bag into the backseat of the car, I can't help but pause. Hilde, the angel who delivered me from hell, will be left behind as well. She was my stronghold during the bleakest times of my existence, and for that I will always be grateful. I love her. I think I always will. There will never be another like her, so compassionate, so caring, so vibrant. I can't stay with her though. I need forgiveness; she has nothing to forgive me for.

I see only asphalt. I hear only the drone of the engine and the whisper of the air conditioner. I don't know where I'm going and I know what I'm leaving behind. The quiet will allow me to think abut things.

Not about what lies behind me, but what lies ahead.

I'm moving on.