#23: The Job of Death-Botan & Kurama, friends, Botan POV
On the night Kurama died, he had been fully prepared. I'd found him on the windowsill, glowing white in his Yoko form, gazing upon his human body. "Interesting," he tried to smile at me, "I often wondered which form my soul would take..." Nodding, unsure of what to say, I reached out, taking his cold hand in mine, "It's okay, Kurama," I whispered, not sure if I believed it.
"I know," he sighed, "there is nothing more I can do. Although I wonder what Koenma will think, finding me dead of poison of all things..."
Looking at my friend's corpse, I noticed the small, metal bottle clutched in his hand.
"Kurama..."
"I merely wanted to die on my own terms," he hugged me briefly, placing himself gently upon my oar, "Shall we be going? I'm anxious to see how my soul weighs against the feather." I smiled softly at the legend, nodding and guiding his arm around my waist; once we reached the gates of Reikai, I wouldn't see him again... I think we both knew that...