When she wakes up, she’s not alone.

“Great, you’ve finally woken up. I’ve been waiting for what seems like eternity you know!”

She’s seated on the grass a few feet away from him, knees up to her chest and arms circled
around them as she regards him with icy, callous eyes.

Her eyes harden and narrow into slits. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” She spits, and he
has to take a moment to compose himself. She’s the first person to make him feel anything
in all his decades of living after all, and he’s still getting used to the warm cheeks and sweaty
palms.

He sits up quickly, still feeling a little starstruck. “You’ll have to excuse my silence, Shinobu-
chan,” He marvelled, noting the frown that enveloped her features upon his overfamiliar
addressal of her. “I’m still in shock over how you followed me all the way here.” He smiles
coyly. “It warms my heart to know you will be with me even in death.”

Overcome with affection, he brings up a hand to grasp the sleeve of her kimono, but she
swats it away.

“I did not follow you here, you bastard.” She hisses, edging away from him. “I blacked out
after I kicked your stupid head away, and before I knew it, I woke up here.” She does a good
job of hiding her disorientation, but he immediately sees through it.

That is when he finally notices their surroundings. He was too in awe of her to notice before,
but they’re both sitting in a field of green grass that stretches on for what feels like forever,
interrupted only by the occasional white birch tree. The sky is painted in varying shades of
blue, violet, and green, and the sun is out but it is setting. There is a creek nearby with fishes
sending ripples across the surface, their silver scales shining in the dim sunlight. He feels a
sense of disconcertion at being out in the sunlight after nearly a century of living out his
days in the darkness, but then realises that he is dead.

When he realises where they are, he dissolves into laughter at the irony of it all. He sees her
turn to face him, shocked.

“What is it?” She demands, standing up in an attempt to look down at him, but even seated,
he is taller. “Why are you laughing?”

He manages to control his laughter, but he can’t stop the gleeful smile that overtakes his
features. “Haven’t you figured it out?” He mocks. “We’re in purgatory, my silly, adorable
little butterfly.” He croons. “Isn’t it wonderful? You and I can be together forever!”

Her amethyst gaze dulls, going distant as the realisation hits her. “Impossible,” She murmurs
as she shakes her head, and he can almost hear the million thoughts fluttering by in her
pretty little head. “I haven’t killed anyone so there’s no possible reason for me to be here.”
Her confusion gives away to anger as she glares at him. “You’re lying, aren’t you, you filthy
demon?” She accuses, hands reaching for the hilt of her sword but looking down in
confusion when she only manages to grasp air.

He stands up to his full height then, which makes her look up at him warily as he towers
over her. “Abstaining from murder is not the minimum requirement to be a good person,
Shinobu-chan.” He purrs. “I’m afraid morality is not black and white, and even if it were, you
still wouldn’t be a good person.” He says gently, voice filled with sympathy as he places a
hand on her shoulder. He knows this is a bitter pill for her to swallow, so he wants to make it
as easy for her as he can.

She flinches away from him as she recovers from her shock, trying to shove his chest away,
but her hands have the same impact as a feather against a rock. She always was a weak,
little thing, wasn’t she? Without her nichirin sword and enviable roster of poisons, she
would be just like any other human.

She leaps away from him when pushing him failed, as quick on her feet as usual. “Fuck off.”
She curses, eyes blazing with a purple fire. “What do you know about morality? You
abandoned it along with your humanity when you chose to become a demon.” He opens his
mouth to speak, but she forges ahead. “Even if we are stuck here for eternity, I refuse to
have anything to do with you. If you come near me, I’ll gouge your eyes out and feed them
to the fish.”

The incongruity of her refined, aristocratic features and the hateful, filthy words coming out
her mouth would unsettle anyone else, but not him. Never him. He had her pegged from the
moment he met her. The sheer amount of resentment and fury contained within her slight
frame is truly remarkable, and he knows that no one in their right mind would ever love
such a vile thing (except him, of course).

He smiles serenely in response, as if humouring an impudent child. “I believe you, but I’m
afraid it doesn’t matter in the slightest,” He pauses, taking in the inquisitiveness that flashes
in her eyes before continuing. “Because you’ll come to me before then.”

She looks at him with disgust, and he wonders how he can feel so small under her gaze. “I
would rather relive my death a billion times over than spend another second with the likes
of you.” She murmurs, quiet but full of hate.

He can tell that she meant every single word she said, but he is comforted by the knowledge
that he knows her better than she knows herself.

Which is why he watches her spin on her heel and walk away, refraining from making any
more comments.

The first few weeks, or months (or even years, because there’s no time in the purgatory that
she’s found herself in) pass by uneventfully. She spends most of her days pondering over
why she didn’t immediately make the cut to go to heaven, and why she has to remain here
in a place arguably worse than hell while a decision is made by a higher power beyond her
comprehension. All she’s yearned for her entire adult life was to see her parents and sister
in the afterlife, but evidently, she’s not a good enough person to deserve happiness.

The mere thought of being put into the same box as an unforgivable, shameless monster
like Douma makes her skin crawl. Shinobu keeps her distance from Douma, and he does the
same, which was shocking to say the least. She did not expect Douma with his covetous
hands and beseeching eyes to respect her desire for solitude, but knowing him, he has an
ulterior motive for doing so.

She catches a glimpse of Douma, his figure a mere speck in the distance between them and
feels a heaviness in her heart she hasn’t felt in a long time. It can’t be loneliness; she tells
herself adamantly. After Kanae passed away, she did not allow herself to feel lonely –
vengeance was her sole companion and purpose of living for the better part of her life. Now
that that’s gone, she feels aimless, like a ship with no destination.

“What are you thinking so hard about, Shinobu-chan?”

She jumps when he speaks right beside her, so close that his breath tickles her ear. Douma
is sitting next to her as she gazes at the watercolour horizon, his hair shining like spun gold
under the setting sun.

“Your eyes sparkle like gemstones in the sunlight.” He remarks, his voice filled with awe.
“Has anyone told you how pretty you are?”

Shinobu ignores his question and turns her face away. “Didn’t I tell you what would happen
if you came near me?”

“Yet, you’re not moving away from me.”

Irritated by his accurate observation, she makes a move to get away from him, but he swiftly
grabs her by her elbow and pulls her back to a seated position. “As much as I admire your
stubbornness, Shinobu-chan, I want you to know that it’s okay to desire company here in
this endless limbo that we’re both stranded on.” He murmurs in a soothing tone that sends
discomfiting chills down her spine. Was this the voice he used when he convinced his cult
members to become his food?

“Like hell.” She snaps as she roughly pushes him away. The fact that he allowed himself to
be pushed away enrages her more than ever – she is not so weak that she has to be
humoured like a child. “I don’t want your company. I’ve always been fine by myself.” Her
voice wobbles a little at the end, and she hopes he didn’t notice.

He gives her a kind and patient smile that is filled with secrets. Ironically, Shinobu has
always hated people who hide their rotten nature under the façade of amiability. She simply
abhors people whose true intentions are unknown to her. Or perhaps she abhors people
similar to her.
“Then why do you constantly watch me from afar when you believe I’m not looking?” He
cocks his head at her curiously.

She stays silent, refusing to reply. She didn’t think he’d noticed that, and upon being called
out for it, she is at a loss for words.

“It’s because you yearn for companionship – all humans do, even stubborn, adamant ones
like you.” He adds.

She laughs bitterly. “Isn’t that what you took advantage of when you brutally murdered all
those women?” Sometimes it is hard to believe that this angelic man with his porcelain skin
and iridescent eyes is capable of such unspeakable crimes.

Douma’s expression hardens, and it’s the first time she’s ever seen him look at her like that.
“I did not brutally murder anyone.” He states stubbornly before his eyes soften. “All the
women I absorbed were more than willing to become one with me – I simply provided them
with the salvation that they so desperately yearned for.”

Shinobu scoffs. “Don’t give me that salvation bullshit - all you did was brainwash them into
doing what you want. You didn’t give two shits about their happiness, all you wanted was
power.”

He hums in consideration. “The women didn’t matter to me, true.” He admits truthfully,
much to her shock. She hadn’t expected him to admit this so easily.

His lips quirk up when he sees her expression. “However,” He continues as he props his chin
on his hand, his eyes ever so gentle as he gazes at her from under thick golden lashes. “I’d
be lying if I said you aren’t the first woman to make my heart race in more than a century.”

She glares at him. “Don’t patronise me.” She warns in a clipped tone as she folds her arms.

His eyes widen. “Oh, Shinobu-chan, I’m not patronising you at all!” He protests wilfully,
looking genuinely upset at her accusation. “I think you’re exquisite and strong in a way
nobody else is, and your dedication to your craft despite your physical shortcomings is
extraordinary. Indeed, you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in all my one
hundred and thirty years of living.”

She remains silent as she gazes off into the distance, deep in thought. She feels disgusted at
herself for feeling a fluttering of pride in her chest upon hearing him sing his praises of her.
Is she so out of it that even the inane chattering of her worst enemy will make her feel
validated?

She is well aware of the fact that she could have easily walked away as soon as he
approached her, but if she’s being honest, even having this bastard around was better than
being alone with her tortuous thoughts, now that she has nothing to distract her. The
vastness of the field and the stillness of the brook and trees did little for the listlessness that
had overtaken her days, and she had yearned for something, anything, to break the
seemingly endless cycle she’s found herself in.

And judging from the self-satisfied glint in his eyes, he is very aware of this.

“Could it be,” His voice is lilting and cadenced as he cuts through her thoughts, making her
turn to face him. He taps his chin with his index finger as he continues. “You’ve never been
with a man?”

His question shocks, but she quickly recovers. “That’s none of your business.” She says icily,
shaken but unwilling to show it.

He blinks, unfazed, and his smile grows thick and warm like honey. “You were so focused on
your mission to end me that thoughts of other men never even crossed your mind.”

As she hates to admit it, he is right. She considered men to be a distraction from her one
and only objective in life — to end the man who brought about the end of her sister.

She jumps when his hands reach out to tip her chin upwards. His eyes shine like light
reflected on diamonds as he gently strokes her cheek with soft hands. “Wouldn’t it be fitting
that I be the first man to be with you?”

For a moment, she is almost hypnotised by the swirling colours in the depths of his eyes and
the warmth of his skin before she comes to her senses. With a mighty push, she leaps away
from him, livid with fury. “You could be the last man on earth, and I still wouldn’t want
anything to do with you.” She spits out.

He gives her a wry smile. “That’s just it, my little butterfly — I am the last man on earth for
you right now.”

For a moment, she forgot that she’s dead.

“So, you need to make a choice.”

Douma might have abandoned his humanity, as Shinobu pointed out, but one thing he
knows for certain is that humans crave companionship.

It is precisely their desire for connection that made his cult so successful for so long. His
followers come to him expecting to be praised and loved, and that is exactly what he did for
them. Sometimes, he would love them so much that they would become one with him, just
so that they could reach the pinnacle of happiness.

Shinobu is no different. Unlike other humans, she might cling to hatred and revenge to keep
herself going, but deep inside, she just wants to love and be loved. After all, her sister’s
death, the loss of love, is the main reason she’s like this in the first place.

Douma is proven right when he feels himself being watched by Shinobu when she thinks he
won’t notice her.

Sweet like poison

The last thing she expected was the feeling of emptiness that slowly but surely started to
creep into her, like a parasite that sucked the life out of her. The vastness of the field and
the stillness of the brook did little for the listlessness that had overtaken her days, and she
yearned for something, anything, to break the seemingly endless cycle she’s found herself
in.

At that moment, she reminds him of the young slayer who called him out on not having any
emotions.
and an expression of pure elation crosses over his handsome features as he lifts her chin up
with a hand to meet his multicoloured eyes.

How does he understand her so well despite having no humanity himself?

He might not feel anything, as that pesky girl pointed out, but he can pick up on other
people’s emotions very well.