"Shall we move to the next memory?" Death asked.
I shook my head as I sat under the huge persimmon tree in the middle of the courtyard.
"Can we take a rest for a bit?" I asked. "I'm tired."
"You're lying," Death said, not as an accusation but a mere statement of facts. "One is unable to feel tired in the In-Between."
Even as he said that Death still sat beside me. I couldn't help but chuckle at how fickle he was.
Death would've been annoying yet exciting if he were a human being. Too bad he wasn't. He was the personification of death. I shouldn't treat him as a friend but as a guide in the In-Between. And yet, I feel an odd sense of affection toward him as if he were–
"You have some weird issues going on with men," Death suddenly interrupted my thought.
"What?" I blinked. "Where is this coming from?"
Did he notice my forming fondness for him?
"From what we saw just now," Death said. "This Crash person gave you a single compliment, and you spent months being head over heels for him."
He did not. Good.
"Why do you look so relieved?" Death raised a quizzical eyebrow at me.
"It's nothing," I laughed wearily. "Also, excuse me, it's more of an infatuation than love."
"Excuse you," Death rolled his eyes at me. "You were the one who said you were in love with him."
"I misspoke!" I answered defensively.
Death shrugged. "Suit yourself."
We sat in the courtyard in the middle of silence. No one dared to speak, but I didn't feel awkward about it. I hope Death didn't feel odd about it, either. We just indulged in this comforting silence, listening to the chirping of the grasshoppers in the courtyard.
"I think so, too," I said out of nowhere, breaking the quiet.
Death made an interrogative hum, and I giggled at his expression.
"I agree with what you said," I added for context. "I did have these weird issues with men throughout my short life."
"It's normal for humans to have daddy issues," Death replied. "Especially people such as yourself—those who lost their father figures at a young age."
I nodded.
"I guess I was merely looking for a strong male figure." I quietly laughed. "It's unhealthy, I know. I'm like a damsel in distress, waiting for my knight in shining armor to save me from this pitifully harsh world."
"And then your damsel in distress tendencies caused you pain and suffering later in life."
My expression darkened.
Sooner or later, we will have to visit the last memories I had before I died. I'm not sure I'm strong enough to handle it, but Death said this was a process I needed to finish before going to The Other Side. It's not a matter of whether I can handle it. I have no choice.
I simply must.
Death must've noticed my tense demeanor because he held my hand again like last time. I held his gaze, staring into his red irises. They were so cold when I first met them, but now I see an inkling of warmth.
"Later on, probably a year after this memory," I estimated, "you'll see more of my relationship with men."
I pulled my hand from his, and Death's usually blank expression tinged with sadness for just a second. Or maybe I just imagined it. I couldn't tell.
"Well, if I were to be honest, the next two men in my life were pretty decent. The word 'love' was probably more applicable to them than to Crash." I chuckled. "But you probably already knew that."
Death didn't say anything. He just watched and listened to me silently. After a while, I started to feel conscious under his piercing gaze.
"Would you stop looking at me like that?"
"It's a pity." Death completely ignored my words and continued to look at me with his stern red eyes. "How you clung to the concept of a man saving you, but in the end, a man was the one who brought you–"
"I wouldn't say that he was the main reason," I found myself defending my last love even though he was a despicable man. "He was just one of the many reasons I did it."
Perhaps defending him from others' judgment was a forced habit. I did it when I was alive, and I'm still doing it when I'm dead. Fantastic!
Death didn't say anything for a while.
"So you pity me, huh?" I said, trying not to sound hurt.
I never really understood people who liked it when other people pitied them. Maybe they liked the attention, but to me, it only seemed like admitting weakness. It's as if you're such a loser that the very idea of living your pathetic life is something to be mourned.
"I do," he answered honestly. "I truly do. In fact, in the whole last millennium of my service, you're the one I pity the most."
I grabbed my chest, revealing my real feelings of hurt this time.
"You wound me, Death," I said dramatically. "Oh, you wound me!"
"Really? A pop culture reference. Right now?"
I shrugged. "I thought the situation was a perfect time to quote it."
Death rolled his eyes, shaking his head.
"Anyway," He started, changing the topic. "Are you ready to see your next memory?"
"And I thought my middle school years weren't that exciting. How many memories do we have left? Because I actually can't recall what else was so bad I had to revisit it before I—NO." I looked at Death with horror.
"No. No. No."
"Yes," Death replied.
"No, no, no, no, no!" I shook my head, getting louder the more I denied it. I know I'm dead, but I swear I felt the blood rushing to my face. "Please don't show it to me."
"I must," he said.
"This will be torture."
Death laughed. "The moment you arrived here with me was the start of your torture."