Creation began on 05-13-18
Creation ended on 04-06-19
Neon Genesis Evangelion
A New Cause: Spiraling out of control
A/N: Pray for even the lost souls seeking redemption.
It was two days until Thanksgiving, and Mana Asagi had written in her diary, based on a bunch of news reports and newspaper articles that spoke of the Four Horsemen and their exploits across the planet, about said horsemen, but mostly detailing Death's actions more so than the other three. Countless criminals were either turning up dead and left for the honest police to find or were turning themselves into the police requesting only the death penalty because they feared getting killed by Death himself rather than someone or something else.
And some of these criminals have seen the other horsemen and what they're capable of, she thought as she looked at another article that detailed some footage of the horsemen at a warehouse operated by a faction of money launderers, and they see the harsh reality of facing them, knowing that they can either atone for their crimes or pay for them with their own lives.
One of the harshest of criminal aftermaths that were reported by the news media was from the witnesses and survivors of Death's actions that were admitted to the hospitals across the USA. A dozen or so drug dealers, kidnappers and/or child molesters that ended up suffering from punishments that fit their crimes by Death, and most had certain pieces of them cut off or were dealt with in the most extreme sort of way that made the Grim Reaper seem like he was trying to turn corpses into artwork. Even one of the female drug dealers left alive had reported saying what Death had said to her boyfriend before he killed him.
"Who goes and says 'Cavity check death' to someone that's going to die like it's some sort of funny before cutting someone in half from the bottom going up?" The woman had been reported saying.
That does sound like it was from a comedy film, Mana thought as she finished writing in her diary for the time being to go downstairs. A lot of people aren't seeing much of what Death and the others do these days. They just see the results…if they're still around to, that is.
-x-
Thud! The wannabe kingpin fell to the ground as his head rolled away from Death's position in the room and towards War's feet.
"If we keep this up, we'll have cleaned up the whole of New Jersey," War told him.
"Until then, we're cleaning house, over and over again," Death responded, walking away from the new stiff and towards a wall, which he punched a hole in with his right arm and ripped away a large section of it to reveal a safe. "Shall we split half of what's in here?"
"No, give it all to the needy."
Death swung his kama and the door fell off, revealing some jewelry and a few hundred-thousand in cash, the fruits of murdering another sinner that wouldn't need them where he was going.
"What good are jewels when they don't help struggling parents to feed their children?" Death questioned and cleaned the safe of the papers while leaving the glitter. "I'm sure some little children will be very happy when their parents wake up to the next day able to feed them with more food."
War looked at the jewels and pondered how people could spend those to pay their bills.
"If I take the jewels to someone under my protection, they might be willing to shave off the estimated value of their worth," he told Death.
"Who do you have under your protection, a millionaire?" Death asked.
"No, a black market broker that wants to get out of the life."
"Do it."
War took the jewels and walked away.
"Hey, Death, you still think about those nights where you, Famine and I teamed up and chased those hustlers and kiddie murderers?"
"I think only of their last breaths. What do you think about them?"
"I think about how the people they harmed can rest their souls now that they've been avenged."
The two horsemen parted ways and Death headed into the east to the lower-class homes to leave the cash under several doors.
-x-
"…I'm impressed that you were able to get the duplicate up and running, Yui," one of Yui's co-workers expressed, seeing the Shinji Ikari lookalike sitting in the center of the room, dressed in a blue and white plugsuit, his face and eyes vacant as the featureless room he sat in.
"It wasn't easy, but this one managed to pull through," she told him; it took at least thirteen failures before she was able to produce the right chemical balance to stabilize the clone of Shinji and begin the process on future clones.
"Whatever happened to the original, though?" Another co-worker asked, and Yui sighed as she explained, in very few words, that her reanimated youngest out of her twin sons was still hanging on…if only barely.
I was able to stabilize his cellular degeneration, but he still wants to die, she thought as she turned away from the observation window that enabled her to view the clone of her son. His flesh is weak, but the ones that come after him can't afford to be as weak as he is. So long as he's kept alive, we'll have access to his DNA.
Within the room, the copy did nothing to indicate that he had any free will. There seemed to be no conscience, no sense of independence or any measure of what resides in a human. No, there seemed to be only the complete lack of a mind as he continued to sit in the chair. But deep within the silence, there seemed to be a series of screams being heard by him in the background…but he gave no indication of understanding why.
"What about the other boy, the baby that didn't grow up?" A woman asked Yui, referring to the eldest son, Mako.
"He's easier to work with on account of his preserved state," she answered.
-x-
Mother Gaia watched with vigilance as Mako continued to train with his halberd. Despite not being exactly like the Four Horsemen, he was progressing in his development, both in body and spirit. The boy continued to improve upon himself, much faster than what she had initially expected of him.
His reflexes are sharpening themselves much quicker than when the first Horseman of War started out, she thought as she saw him now sparring with several men armed with wooden staffs, each of them having spent a majority of their lives learning martial arts to make them considerable combatants against the new horseman. Your body produces less fatigue toxins, as well, meaning you can go longer in whatever you do before the buildup of toxins begin to slow you down.
"Whoa!" A man gasped as he was thrown across the grassy field by Mako. "You're a lot tougher than you look right now!"
SWING! Mako swung his halberd and held it behind himself in his right hand as he faced the remaining combatants, gesturing with his left hand for them to come at him if they dared.
"There's no going backwards to face me," he uttered to them. "You can only go forwards to find a way to beat me. I'm not Death, Famine, War or Conquest. I may be closer to you than they could hope to be. I'm no juggernaut endowed with power over the elements of the ability to affect life on a large scale, so bring your arrows, knives whips or stones. I will persevere and overcome in my duty to aid the Four Horsemen of the Restorative to restore the world."
-x-
"…Pestilence," the demonic horseman heard his name being uttered and turned to face the fire deity, Pyre. "You're in luck. Your infernal masters heard of your request and answered it. In two days' time, you will have your legion demon giants. Where would you have them attack first?"
"If I told you, that would be telling," Pestilence told him.
Pyre was blank in his facial expression and responded, "Yes, that would be telling. Not that I care. Even deities can get curious sometimes."
Pestilence merely turned and walked away to the burning abyss of Hell's molten lake.
Pyre simply disappeared in a puff of smoke; whatever the demonic horseman intended to do with his new legion was entirely up to him while the fire god had…other matters to attend to that didn't require his presence in Hell.
-x-
Death was currently pissed, and he had a reason to be. The trio of disease-packing pedophiles that he was chasing after down the streets of Chicago thought they could defeat him by hurling corrosive acid on his face, but all they did was cause him to have a temporary disfigurement as they saw him persist in pursuing them. And while it didn't kill him to walk down the street with his face half-eaten, the Pale Rider did exhibit a harder time controlling his temper over their persistence in running from their overdue retribution.
"You're gonna die tonight, and nobody's gonna give a damn!" He yelled at the men as he knocked aside a radio blaring loud music for a bunch of indecent-dressed women, which upset them.
"Hey!" One of them with braids yelled at Death, and then took out a switchblade. "You're dead meat, kid! Let's do this!"
Death turned around to face the women…and ripped open his own chest to expose his lifeless heart to their eyes.
"Do you really want to come at me right now?!" He questioned, his face now only sporting a large gash on his forehead.
The woman dropped the knife and backed away.
"Hey, man," one of her friends spoke, "it's just an old radio. It's cool, man. It's cool."
They ran away like cowards, leaving Death to continue his pursuit.
"I can't believe you just scared them off like that, sir," he turned to a woman in a business suit with blond hair in a ponytail, carrying a bag of groceries.
"I'm having a very bad evening right now, ma'am," he told her.
"The men you're chasing went into the back alley where you'll find a street that leads to Chinatown," she informed him. "I got two little girls that don't need people like that roaming free in the city."
"Much appreciated."
He resumed his hunt for the men that threw acid at him.
-x-
"…Ahh," Mana heard her mother sigh in contentment as she stepped out of the bathroom, steamed and wearing a bathrobe.
"I see where I get my passion for hot baths from," she told her.
"I know it's not Thanksgiving yet, but I am thankful for the basics of hot water," Himeko responded to her daughter, "and soap."
"The day after tomorrow, we can all give thanks to what we're grateful for (Mana held up her rabbit wood carving)."
"Maybe you should invite him over."
"Really?"
"It's not every day one is able to invite the Horseman of Death over for Thanksgiving. He is among those I'm thankful for being around. Who knows, maybe he's thankful for something…or someone."
"It'd be nice to know what he is thankful for, but it's not like anyone can just call him. He's not listed in the pages anywhere."
"Then we'll wait for him to come back; he…does have a habit of coming here more than anywhere else nowadays. I think he likes you a lot more than he knows."
"Mother…it's nothing like that. Who he used to be…and who he is now… I don't know why it's written the way it is in the Book of the Restorative, but anyone who is a fallen, disgraced soul chosen to become one of the Four Horsemen of the Restorative, while their behaviors are unchanged in any degree that would indicate some form of manipulation, they're permitted to feel as much as they can for the people they become associated with, they're…prohibited from becoming too attached to them."
"Prohibited? Why would they need to be prohibited?"
"Death is Death, the opposite of living. For any horseman, including him, he can't delude himself into thinking that he's like everyone around him. It's…not something that they…do."
It was the way her daughter hesitated in finishing what she was trying to explain. But Himeko wasn't lost to what was being said so far. As far as she could comprehend, these four souls that were damned before becoming horsemen were forbidden from having personal lives like everyone else, that their first and foremost responsibility had to be to the Restorative, not to whoever they felt anything for.
"Does that book say anything about any of the horsemen trying to live a little outside of their duties as horsemen?" She asked Mana.
"No," she answered her mother, "but it doesn't say anything about what happens if they did, either."
-x-
Looking over the city after murdering the three pedophiles that were carrying infectious diseases and leaving his bloody messages where he left them for the police to find, Death felt like the blood that bled from his victims when they were faced with inescapable torment and an unstoppable fate. He felt like he was losing a little more of himself in some way that wasn't supposed to be within the confines of his position.
Whoosh! He looked up and felt the presence of the White Rider, Conquest.
"You missed some overdue retribution," he told him, not bothering to turn and face the Poison Master. "You probably could've given them something that dried them up on the inside."
"I could've," went Conquest, removing his hood and revealing his face, "but why deny you the thrill of being judge and executioner? Are you alright? You seem…peaked?"
"Probably overworked, maybe," Death suggested.
"It wouldn't be unusual for you to feel overworked. We're still human in one sense, bound to our spiritual and physical limitations that remind us that we were once like everyone around us."
Death then turned to face him, a look of absent sadness on his pale features.
"How are we like them…or were anything like them?" He asked him. "I can't see any resemblance between us and them…or rather, I don't see any comparison between those that live…and myself, who is as cold as the young man that died after that day of retribution…that I had to live with because a mistake was made by him that he didn't consider."
Again, Death was trying to distance himself from his past self, the infamous and tortured soul that was Shinji Ikari, despite it being clear to many that both were completely different individuals…in many respects. The mortal Shinji was a being reconditioned to seek out vengeance against the Ikari family for their abuse, neglect and utter failure towards him…and Death was a being whose purpose was to avenge the innocent in however way he chose in his pursuit of indelible sin and overdue justice, as he was a walking, unstoppable force that had been tainted by sin, to turn sin against the sinners, to spill their blood to atone for the innocent blood spilt by them. One of them a young man that couldn't, simply because of how he suffered, permit himself to care for the sake of others…and another that was slowly caring for the sake of others.
"It's almost Thanksgiving, Death," Conquest informed him. "Will you be attending the holiday with anyone? People will be around to embrace such a time for a social gathering."
"I know of Thanksgiving, having murdered people that celebrated it," he responded, "but I can't grasp its true meaning on account of how the holiday became…withered over the years. People seem to concern themselves more with…football than togetherness. It is as though the meaning has become lost to them as the years came and went. Even he didn't understand the meaning behind it."
"Sometimes, the best way to grasp the meaning behind something…is to be in the presence of those that do. There is much to be thankful for regarding such a day. Things we take for granted, things we didn't really understand until something either happens or almost happens. It is a day where people meet and greet, across time and space, and engage in conversation over a meal."
Some people were suddenly screaming on the street as something caught their attention, and Conquest took notice of a good reason that they were frightened; not many would expect to see a large dragon flying over the streets as it approached one of the taller buildings to pick up its rider.
"Grr," Rumi growled as Death turned to hop onto her saddle.
"May the remainder of your evening be one of obtained results, Poison Master," he told Conquest as he grabbed the reins. "For now, the sin is dead in this city…until it festers again."
As he watched the pale dragon take flight with her rider, Conquest pondered if the Grim Reaper would consider his advice to spend Thanksgiving with people. But had to remind himself that Death was still, as a result of his unforgivable isolation at the hands of those that saw him as something less than human and not as a person made to suffer at the hands of his former blood ties, not entirely a social being, despite the degree of progress he appeared to be making.
A killer that kills to end the killing so that the innocent may live to see the next day, the next week, the next month and so on, he thought as he looked down at the people that were present. "I may never understand why people of this era and very century are primarily reliant upon these pieces of technology that are supposed to make their lives easier when much of their use is to separate them from the world. Surely, the day will come where we're no longer in need of such whimsical distractions and can just engage in conversation like the old days."
-x-
"…You want to attack on Thanksgiving Day?" The Horsewoman of War asked Pestilence as the demonic being walked past her and the Horsewoman of Famine and Gendo.
"Either that…or the day after," he informed them as he picked up a bow that was different from his usual composite bow.
It was a longbow with a pair of curved horns connected to the handle grip.
"Why attack the day after?" Gendo questioned him.
"Let them appreciate what they have for as long as they can," Pestilence uttered. "Humans and their holidays, something you clearly rejected, you disgrace. According to a bloody whisper, your heavenly counterpart is considering embracing such a holiday due to connecting to some extent to some people he seems very fond of. Wouldn't you say that he prefers the company of others a little more than you ever could, disgrace?"
Gendo didn't want to answer that assumption because the demon was right about his former son that had been his one-way ticket to Hell. He even found, as ridiculous as it had been, the Restorative Horseman of Death had developed a rather profound attachment…to the Asagi family's daughter, Mana, who seemed to have an effect on his activity, as he frequented the house they lived in every now and then.
"Death, the Endgame," the Horsewoman of Famine expresses as she fidgeted with her tattered rags. "How did Heaven get him in their ranks to do decent work for the great beyond while the masters down under got the miscreants that were more infamous than he?"
"He simply had more ambition to murder his old man," the female War stated, earning a glare from Gendo. "Everyone else that got killed by him was simply collateral damage. Now, this disgrace would know all about collateral damage, as his son being discarded after the false death of his mother was nothing but collateral…and everything that happened after that horrible and unforgivable day being nothing but one collateral after another…until even his very death became collateral."
"There wouldn't have been any collateral if that brat had just listened and did as he was told," Gendo then spoke in his defense over the previous scenario. "All he had to do was…"
"Except you failed to take into consideration that he was too damaged to do as you desired on account of spending such a long time in a place that degraded his sense of cooperation with other people," Pestilence cut him off. "You were told that he needed help from the guy that was his shrink, but you denied him help because you didn't want an intellectual child rehabilitated from his emotional abuse at the hands of your wretched blood ties. All you wanted was a spineless pawn in your elaborate game…and now you're a pawn in an elaborate game. Your choices regarding who Death used to be…are of your own downfall. You and your precious, sinful wife alienated him from the world, damaged him beyond mending, and he became your worst nightmare incarnated in flesh. A human that has been perceived as insane is therefore incapable of following another's simple commands."
Gendo frowned at the demon bringing up his past mistakes, but knew he was no match for him. Even if he tried to face him, he'd end up paying far more than what he had already lost. A human damned to live in eternal agony in Hell against a demon born and bred in Hell to be the best of them would be like trying to stop a black hole…with a brick. All he could do…was follow orders until it was decided he was no longer relevant. In the end, that was all he could until he pissed the demon off to the point that he would undo him.
"In the end, your obsession for the return of your wife, you fervent need for control, to dominate the decisions of others, to be able to predict the outcome of any situation without fail, it all led to your downfall," Pestilence continued. "You were willing and able to sacrifice everything just to have her back in your life…and you lost everything. Funny, how fate works for some, but not for others. And a pity…that you three represent the cruel outcome associated with people that trade in flesh and blood for what you desire, sacrificing the lives of your children before they even get to take their first breath. Famine, you already intended to murder your baby to escape your past, and you still died later because of him. War, you betrayed your son to an enemy kingdom he fought against alongside others to protect you, and when he came back as a soldier for Heaven, he claimed your soul and sent it to Hell. And you, Gendo, who refused to love his only other son after the alleged accidental death of his elder brother, bartered away his future in exchange for your own, and what did you both get in return? What did any of you get in return?"
Gendo and the women didn't answer him…and the answer was obvious to the demon.
"Heh…and people of the modern era say that Hell is for children. If Hell is for children, then what does that make Heaven? Is Heaven for adults? Is it for the pure and cleansed? I wouldn't know, for my place is down here…and I will serve my masters to at the cost of my existence…to prove to them that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse should be represented by the local population instead of the immigrant souls that fall from grace."
"There's a local population? Down here in Hell?" Famine questioned him. "Just what are you?"
"I am as I've always been regarding my superiority towards you fallen souls: A true native of Hell. I've never fallen…and never will."
-x-
It was now the day before Thanksgiving, and Death was just flying on Rumi in the sky, not really looking for sin, as there was no sin yet to be felt in the world, so he had time to waste. There was something about being in the sky, seen and unseen by legions of eyes, known to the world, but unreachable, that was calming.
"…Death…Death…" He heard a voice call out to him.
In front of him, a swirl of clouds gathered and formed into Miyu, the Restorative Wind Goddess, her butterfly-like wings spread out behind her.
"You've been spending an unfathomable amount of time away from everyone," she told him, floating in the air between them. "While it isn't my place to dictate what you will do, I must express there are shared levels of concern regarding where you'll be for this upcoming Thanksgiving. Unless, of course, you intend to spend the day alone, which isn't a good idea for anyone, not even yourself, to do."
Death stood up on the saddle and from out his back came the dark wings associated with his status.
"Ah, have you been practicing with your wings now that they have manifested?" Miyu asked him.
"No," he finally spoke up. "They just come and go sometimes. As for Thanksgiving, I know where I'll be spending my time during that day. The question is…what is it for me to be thankful for? Can an embodiment of Death be thankful? Is Death thankful? I have no answer to such a series of questions. Do you or the other deities have the answer?"
"My answer for you, Death, is that you do have much to be thankful for…even if you never say what exactly. Even before you were a horseman, you had to be thankful for something, even if it was only a minor, insignificant thing."
Death then levitated off the saddle and two feet into the air. It was a display of control that the Wind Goddess was impressed by. Not many horsemen under the mantle of Death could achieve such a degree of control in under a year, and this one has only been under the mantle after the summer ended. There was an increase in his development that was progressing quite fast, like he was getting stronger faster.
"You must tapping into deeper reserves of energy related to your position in the Four Horsemen of the Restorative," Miyu suspected.
"There are energies related to the Four Horsemen?" Death questioned.
"It's an energy that connects you to the world around you, and where you draw upon the strength to overcome whatever seeks to oppose or oppress you or the people you protect or avenge. You should talk to Gaia. She'll tell you what you need to know."
As he returned to the saddle and his wings disappeared, Death uttered, "Tell me one thing, though. Do you know what the previous Horseman of Death was like before I came around?"
"The previous Horseman of Death? He was…well, he wasn't anything like you have proven yourself to be. He was social, but bitter. Consumed by grief and anger, he died violently a long time ago as he was trying to save someone…and he spent his purgatory as a horseman helping the Restorative by taking out assassins and kidnappers nobody else knew about. His last job before he retired and returned to the abyss was to kill a mercenary that would've hurt several of the Restorative's helpers trying to provide medical aid to some refugees. After that day, all he asked was that his successor be more enduring than he had been."
"It sounds like being a horseman was taking its toll on him."
"It was, but it was never the wrong choice to say that enough was enough. Each of you has the right to stop if you feel you've done enough to benefit the Restorative and return to the abyss and wait for the renewal. Nobody is meant to be one of the horsemen like it's a curse when it's no different from any other mantle, passed from one lost soul to the next as they seek redemption."
Death then nodded to her.
"May your Thanksgiving tomorrow be one of grace," he told her.
"Likewise, Death," she responded, and watched as he flew away on his dragon. This Death is conflicted by winds of change and attrition. The winds are shifting in unknown patterns, blowing in all four corners of the planet at once. Something is amiss with the flow of life. There's been a shift in the balance of power between greatness and devastation. But what is amiss out there…and how will it affect everyone?
-x-
"…The overall crime rate has dropped significantly to the point of being nonexistent," went Misato to Chansu in the halls of NERV HQ as they were walking to the cafeteria. "It looks like people will be able to actually enjoy Thanksgiving tomorrow."
"At this point, maybe the Horseman of Death deserves a series of medals for tracking down various criminal factions and ending them," Chansu remarked.
"Lately, it hasn't been only that particular horseman that has been active. There have been small sightings of the other three he was stated to be affiliated with. Mainly just a guy dressed in samurai-like armor and a young boy in rags with an emaciated appearance that was reported to suck his victims dry of their body fluids."
"The Horsemen of War and Famine, respectively; War is the warrior of the sword…and Famine is the pauper represented by the scales to represent justice. Conquest is the archer…and Death…is the most extreme of the four."
"You think he'll be busy on Thanksgiving?"
"Only people with no interest in spending time with friends or family will be likely to work tomorrow. Unfortunately, crime will be unlikely to take Thanksgiving off, meaning that Death will likely to be taking it easy…unless the bad guys left will wise up and forget about selling drugs, running guns or making money that will not save them from the wrath of the Grim Reaper that knows how to throw down hard."
"And will NERV be expected to spend Thanksgiving with friends or family?"
"That's right. The Angels haven't done anything since they arrived at their destinations and any attack made on them is dealt with by the horsemen protecting them; if they've done nothing to indicate any sort of attack on humanity, then they're not going to. Don't you have anyone to spend Thanksgiving with, Ms. Katsuragi?"
"Unfortunately, no," Misato explained; her parents were dead and the only other person she considered spending Thanksgiving with was her former boyfriend, who was a bit of a let-down.
"You're welcome to spend it with me as I go to a friend's house to spend time with her family," Chansu offered her.
"What happened to your family?" Misato asked.
"They're out of the country, in a safe place I'm hoping stays safe because Death never appears to go there…or overlooks it."
"There's a safe place that Death doesn't go to?"
"It's just a small town by the name of St. Jude's Haven, named after one of the Apostles that represented lost causes. Basically, a place where hope exists for those that believe they are hopeless. One train of thought is that there is hope for those that want to be saved from their personal darkness, but only if they truly want freedom from it."
"Only if you can stand my plus one being a feathery critter," Misato told him, considering his invite.
"Do people keep deer as pets and companions instead of cats and dogs?" Chansu asked her, and she just gave him a confused look. "Never mind, we've put up with crazier things, like a guy with a prosthetic organ."
Better your company than Kaji or Asuka, she thought; the last thing she wanted to do was spend time with either of them due to their differing opinions regarding the unrest caused by Death's actions toward the criminal network.
"If we could predict where he'll be next, I'd put him back in the ground like the corpse he is," Asuka had once told her, which disturbed her.
-x-
"…What are you reading, Mana?" Himeko asked her daughter as she found her in the living room reading a book.
"Oh," Mana responded, looking up at her mother, "just this fantasy novel by this Piers Anthony guy called On a Pale Horse. It's really good."
"That old book was actually the first thing your father and I had in common when we started dating."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean, the plot was very emotional, even though it was fictional. A guy that gives up on living after losing a shot at romance ends up having to become the Grim Reaper when he kills him out of fright…and finds himself with a different future that makes him a part of a larger world than what he once knew."
"What are the chances of people whose lives seem to be going nowhere…and end up going somewhere after a chance encounter with someone that isn't who they seem?"
"The chances are very rare, Mana…as though they were in a story themselves."
Mana then put a bookmark in the chapter she was reading and set the book down on the table.
"I know I shouldn't expect such a thing to happen, but I would be thankful if Death and Mako came over like they used to, before Death started keeping away for much longer periods. I am thankful that he goes out there in the world and takes out the bad guys so that nobody else has to suffer because of them, but…it feels better when he's just here to talk to, even if he has nothing much to talk about."
Ding-dong! The doorbell rang, and Mana got up to answer it.
"Who is it?" She asked.
"It's Death of the Restorative," replied the person outside, and she opened the door to see his face. "Ask nicely, show patience…and this damned soul will eventually respond…and asks of something in return. Is it too late to seek an invitation to your…Thanksgiving?"
"No," Mana uttered, happy to see his face. "It's never too late to invite a friend."
It was that word she used, "friend"…that made Death feel different from how he usually felt. Raising his left hand up, he extended it out to Mana as a small smile formed on his face.
"Friend," he spoke as he gave her a nod.
Mana accepted his hand…and slowly invited him inside.
"Friend," she called him.
And maybe, with the exception of his twin, she was the first person he ever thought of as being just that…and it was enough to make his heart, lifeless in its actions within his being…pulsate for a little while, as though he were actually alive like before.
"So…where have you been for the last few days?" She asked him as they returned to the living room.
"Parts of Russia, like Moscow," he answered as he sat down, "then a few places in Brazil, like Sao Paulo, followed by a salvage port in Latvia…and then a few towns and cities in the US. It's like the criminals of the world don't know the meaning of the saying 'cease and desist'."
"Sounds like you've been busy," Himeko stated. "Thank you for coming back, Death."
"You're…thanking me for being here?"
"That's right."
"You're…you're welcome."
To be continued…
A/N: In a way, control does seem to become unstable after a while, mostly with the minions of Hell, Yui's lack of progress with the corpse of Shinji, the criminals of the world either unwilling or unable to cease in their activities even when they know Death is out there looking for them, and even Death's own apparent instability. But the next chapter should be a pleasant one, since it deals with the holiday that most people corrupt to a degree that Death is now trying to grasp at by being with the Asagi family. Let me know what you think of this chapter.