Toji opened his eyes, blinking against the blinding white that surrounded him. It wasn't a room, not exactlyâjust an endless stretch of nothing, pure and empty, like someone had scrubbed the world clean and forgotten to put anything back. His head throbbed, a dull ache pulsing behind his eyes, and he squinted, trying to make sense of where he was. Last thing he remembered was the fightâblood, steel, the sting of a blade, and then⌠nothing. He rubbed his face with a calloused hand, groaning.
"Well, this is some shitty afterlife," he muttered, voice rough as gravel. "Where the hell am I?" he muttered, voice rough and edged with irritation. "If this is death, it's a damn letdown."
A soft chuckle answered him, and Toji's head snapped up. Standing a few feet away was⌠something. Someone. It wasn't human, not quiteâtoo perfect, too still, like a statue carved from light. The figure glowed faintly, its edges blurring into the white void, and its face was calm, unreadable. Wings arched behind it, shimmering like they were made of glass, catching light that wasn't even there.
"Well, ain't this a sight," he drawled, crossing his arms. "What are you supposed to be? Some kinda discount angel? Heaven's budget cuts hit hard, huh?"
The being tilted its head, unperturbed by the sarcasm dripping from his words. Its voice, when it spoke, was like a melody woven from wind and starlight, calm and unshaken. "I am an angel, Toji Fushiguro. A guide for souls like yours, caught between realms."
Toji barked a laugh, sharp and bitter. "Souls like mine? Buddy, you got the wrong guy. I'm not the 'guided to the light' type. More like the 'drag you down to hell with me' kinda bastard." He waved a hand dismissively, turning as if he could walk away from the conversation. But the white stretched on, endless, and his boots found no purchase to escape.
The angel tilted its head, unbothered by the sarcasm dripping from his words. "You're dead, Toji. This is the space between. A place to rest, to reflect."
"Dead, huh?" Toji smirked, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Figures. Went out swinging, at least. So what's the deal? You here to judge me? Send me to hell or some shit like that? "
"No judgment," the angel replied, its tone steady. "Only a choice."
Toji raised an eyebrow, shifting his weight to one leg. "A choice? What, like pick my own eternal torment? Hard pass. Just point me to the exit, feathers."
The angel didn't react to the jab. Instead, it took a step closer, and for the first time, Toji noticed its eyes deep, endless, like staring into a well that went on forever. "Tell me, Toji," it said softly. "What do you carry with you?"
The angel's voice softened, carrying a weight that made Toji's chest ache against his will. "I see all that you are, Toji. The man you became. The man you once were."
He opened his mouth to fire off another smartass remark, but the words caught in his throat. Something shifted in the air, heavy and suffocating, and his smirk faltered. His chest tightened, like a fist squeezing his lungs, and then it hit him, memories, sharp and unbidden, slicing through the haze of his defiance.
It paused, and the air grew heavy. "Fushiguro."
That name.....it hit him like a fist to the gut. His breath caught, and for a moment, the hardened assassin was gone, replaced by a man whose eyes flickered with something raw, something vulnerable. He clenched his jaw, forcing the mask back into place, but the cracks were already showing.
"Don't," he snarled, voice low and dangerous.But the angel didn't flinch. It stepped closer, its light brushing against him, warm and invasive. "I see her," it said gently. "Your wife. Her smile. The way she looked at you, as if you were her entire world."
Toji's breath hitched, and he staggered back a step, eyes widening. He could see her so clearly now....hair falling across her forehead, the way her lips curved when she laughed, soft and real. The first time they met, she'd spilled coffee on his shirt by accident, stammering apologies while he just grinned, charmed by her flustered mess of a self. She'd been so alive then, so bright, like the sun breaking through a storm.
The memory shifted, and there she was again, holding their son for the first time. Megumi. Tiny, wrinkled, screaming his little lungs out while she cradled him, exhausted but glowing. Toji had stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, pretending he wasn't shaken to his core by the sight of them....his family, his everything.
"Toji," she'd whispered, looking up at him with those tired, shining eyes. "He's perfect."
He'd nodded, throat too tight to speak, and for once in his life, he'd felt like maybe he could be more than just a killer, more than a fuck-up.
But then came the end. Her last smile...weak, fading, etched into his mind like a scar. She'd been slipping away, blood staining the sheets, her hand cold in his as he begged her to hold on. "Don't you dare leave me," he'd growled, voice breaking, but she'd just squeezed his fingers, barely, and smiled one last time.
"I love you," she'd said, so quiet he almost missed it. And then she was gone.
Toji's knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground, hands digging into the white nothingness beneath him. His breaths came in ragged gasps, and his vision blurred....tears, hot and unstoppable, spilling down his face. He hadn't cried since that day. Not once. He'd buried it all, locked it away behind walls of sarcasm and violence, but now it was flooding back, drowning him.
"Stop it," he growled, but his voice cracked, betraying him.The angel continued, relentless in its kindness. "I see your son. Megumi. The way you held him when he was born, so small in your arms."
Megumi's face flickered in his mind next those dark, serious eyes, so much like hers. The kid he'd abandoned, left behind because he couldn't face the pain of looking at him, couldn't stomach the reminder of what he'd lost.
"Shut up," he rasped, but the fight was draining out of him, replaced by a hollow ache that gnawed at his bones.
The angel's light pulsed again, softer now, almost mournful. "I see her last smile. The way she looked at you before she left, her hand in yours, her breath fading. She wanted you to be happy, Toji. Even then."
His vision blurred, and he realized with a jolt that his eyes were wet. He swiped at them furiously, but the tears kept coming, hot and unstoppable. He remembered that momentâher lying there, pale and frail, her grip weak but steady. She'd smiled, that same damn smile that had pulled him out of the dark so many times, and whispered something he couldn't hear over the sound of his own breaking heart. And then she was gone, leaving him with a void he'd never filled.
"Why are you doing this?" he choked out, voice ragged. "What's the point of dragging this up? To torture me? To remind me what a piece of shit I am?"
"Toji," the angel's voice cut through the storm in his head, gentle but firm. "Do you want me to take that pain away?"
He looked up, tears streaking his cheeks, and for a moment, he couldn't speak. The angel's gaze held no pity, no judgment just an offer, plain and simple. Take it away. Erase it. The weight, the guilt, the love that cut deeper than any blade.
"You can do that?" he rasped, voice raw. "Just⌠make it gone?"
The angel nodded. "I can unburden you. Free you from the memories that bind you."
Toji laughed, a broken, bitter sound. "Free me, huh? For what?"
"For nothing," the angel said. "Only release."
He stared at the being, chest heaving, and then his eyes drifted shut. The memories came faster now, flashing like a reel he couldn't stop...her laugh, her touch, the way she'd hum off-key while cooking dinner. The day she'd patched up his wounds after a job, scolding him even as her hands trembled. Megumi's first steps, wobbling toward him while Toji pretended not to care, even though his heart had damn near burst.
And then he felt it..a pull, soft at first, like a thread unraveling. The edges of those memories started to blur, fading into static. Her voice grew distant, her smile dissolving into light. Panic flared in his gut, and he reached out, hands clawing at the air like he could hold onto her.
"Noâwaitâ" he choked out, but it was too late. She was slipping away, piece by piece, and with her went the pain, the warmth, everything. Megumi's face faded next, those quiet eyes lost to the void, and Toji's chest went hollow, a cavern where his heart used to be.
He collapsed forward, hands pressed to his face, sobbing like a child. The tears kept coming, but they felt emptier now, like he was crying for something he couldn't name. When he finally looked up, the angel was kneeling beside him, its hand resting lightly on his shoulder.
"It is done," it said, voice soft as a whisper. "You are free."
Toji wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, breath shuddering. "Free," he echoed, the word tasting like ash. He didn't feel free. He felt⌠nothing. Just a shell, scraped clean.
The angel stood, its glow brightening. "Your soul has borne much, Toji Fushiguro. I offer you a gift...a new beginning. A body perfected, unmarred by the frailties of your past. A body of perfection a Demi God, a vessel of both strength and Health, blessed by heaven itself. With it, you will be reborn in another world, your slate wiped clean."
Toji stared at the angel, exhaustion settling into his bones. "Another world, huh? What's the point if I don't even know who I am?"
"You will become someone new," the angel said. "Someone whole."
He didn't have the energy to argue. The white space pulsed around him, and his eyelids grew heavy, the weight of his emptied soul dragging him down. As he slipped into unconsciousness, the angel's hand pressed against his forehead, warm and steady.
"I hope you find peace my son," it murmured, the words echoing faintly as light swallowed him whole.