⟼ 329

@h. hitomi .ᐟ — “Are you dying yet?”
[ I was trying to feel out their past but feel free to only respond to the bottom half of you’d like!]

Yoonseo arrived at the small asylum for magical creatures nestled deep in the thick forest— or rather what was left of it. The asylum was a sanctuary, a haven for peculiar beings seeking a safe and mundane life away from the gaze of a cruel and judgmental society. What had once probably been a community of laughter and harmony now echoed dead silence, punctured with piercing cries for mercy and the weeping souls trapped in the dimension between life and death. The reasons behind the slaughter of nearly half the population remained unknown to the grim reaper. To her, the motives remained inconsequential. Her task wasn’t to sympathize or save. It wasn’t to empathize either. Her job was to collect the souls that lingered and sever their ties to the mortal world. It was for their own sake as well as the living.

Her heels tapped at the bloodied floor, echoing loudly only to those close to their end. Her cold, detached eyes took in the broken bodies as she began her task of guiding the souls to the other side, one by one releasing them from their pain and confusion. Despite the coldness from her expression, the job never got easier. The look of fear lingered, their cries lingered. All of them took form in her nightmares. But it wasn’t about her. The best thing she could do for them was her job. Yoonseo stopped in front of a pink haired woman, her hand hovering over the disheveled matted hair and stopped. She tilted her head, a small, almost amused smirk tugging at her lips. “What do we have here? It seems it isn’t time yet… How interesting,” she mumbled before moving onto the next, her black robe fluttering behind her.

—————— present ——————
After dying, it seemed as if time worked differently. There were no weekdays or weekends. Instead, every few months, Yoonseo was given time off from her reaping duties if she had aided a substantial number of souls. But it didn’t matter much to her, not when it was literally impossible for her to do anything other than existing in a state of nonexistence. No one could see her other than other grim reapers, who were busy with their duties, or mortals who were close to dying, which she preferred to stay away from. She had months worth of dying souls to work with. If she was bored enough, she pretended to partake in mundane conversations and gossip. Although they didn’t know she was there, she laughed when they laughed, smiled as if they could see her, and cried if they were able to touch her otherwise callous heart.

Once she had her fill, she continued on, walking through the streets as if it were any ordinary day. An ordinary day like visiting a friend or a family member—. Family. On days like these she often wondered if she ever had a family and if they were nice or not. Maybe they were rich and well off? She sighed and her heels. That was enough for the day. The color drained from her eyes before she looked up, noticing a familiar pair of eyes staring right at her. Her cold orbs flickered up to the woman’s hair. Pink. “Ah. It’s you. Are you dying?”