God of Death
By Icka! M. Chif

It all started in my childhood. 

That sounds like something out of one of those books Hisoka was reading, Freud something or another. The one who blamed everything on his mother. 

That doesn't make it any less true. For as long as I could remember, I've been an outcast, mocked and humiliated. No one ever saw my father. Bastard. My eyes were an un-natural shade of purple. Hell spawn. My body healed it's self. Deamon Child. 

The neighbourhood kids took to throwing rocks and stones at me, or what ever else they could find. I got very good at hiding because of that. This continued most of their lives. 

Which was only about elementary school. And that's my fault, no matter what anyone else says.

It happened one day when I was about 8. I had taken refuge in one of the local rose gardens, after another stunning bout of 'beat the freak'. Usually that meant I was safe, I had gotten away. At least for the day. 

Not that day however. Some of the kids found me, breaking the rose branches to get to me and... something just snapped. Faded to grey. 

When I woke up, they were dead. 

They were all dead. The entire town. Anyone and everyone I had known, including my mother. Just like the pale roses that lay covered in blood next to my head.

Neesan raised me after that. There was nothing she couldn't do, from making the nightmares go away, to dancing to charming the birds out of the trees. Neesan was beautiful, both inside and out. 

This lasted only about 10 years, then she too died. 

Everyone around me dies. Except for me. 

That's what a survivor is, isn't it? To be alive to watch as everyone around you dies.

I remember trying to kill my self after that. It didn't work. 

Neither did the second time. Or the third, or the fourth. You'd think I would have learned to stop trying to cut my wrist and try other methods after a while. 

But eventually, it finally worked. It took me 8 long years, but I finally killed myself. 

And somehow, I became the one thing I feared the most while I was still alive. Death no longer followed me, I became death. A Shinigami. 

I thought this way, people would no longer die because of me. No one would get hurt. When they died, now I could ease their passing, not be the cause of it.

I was wrong. 

Muraki proved that. First with Hisoka, then Tsubaki Hime and the girls he killed for his cloning project. 

He also brought to life one of my worst fears come true. The shadow that I had tried so hard to escape. 

I'm not human. I never was. 

And it hurts. It still hurts. Sometimes it feels like I've been ripped in two, the part of me that longs to be human, and the part of me that isn't. 

Sargatanis said it himself before I pushed him out of my body. Even without my Shikigami, I would be a match for Enma himself. I have enough power to hurt that many people.

I don't want it. And I do my best to hide it whenever possible. 

Hisoka is right, I am a hypocrite. But I was also telling the truth that I don't mind being a hypocrite if it means that I can keep my friends. I need them. I need them so much. And yet it hurts to be near them sometimes. Because they'll die too. It's only a matter of time. 

But for now... I'll hold on to them while I can. 

I asked Touda to kill me, to burn the pain away, and Hisoka pulled me back from the flames. He asked if I could live for him. 

It surprised me. I guess I'm selfish in my own way, I had forgotten his pain when mine overwhelmed me. But I couldn't allow anyone else to die because of me, and he would have. Hisoka would have followed me into the flames.

So I said yes. 

And as long as he is alive, I will too. 

He told me not long after, that he will live as long as Muraki is alive. To him, that's an insurmountable amount of time. 

To me, it's a handful of sand sliding through my fingers. Muraki, despite his best appearances and talents, is still a human. He'll live another 20 years, maybe 50 but I doubt it. The years past by faster when your body is immortal.

And when Muraki is dead, Hisoka will most likely have nothing left to live for. With Hisoka gone, neither will I. And this tortured spirit of mine will finally be silenced. 

There will be no more deaths because of me. 

Fin.

Inspired by a discussion with Hathaway-neechan about Tsuzuki's past, and his purple eyes.