"I know this sounds unreasonable, probably a little insane, but I know you're coming for me.

  I know my time is up, and I do not have long for this world. But for whatever reason, there's something I must ask of you. I have never loved anyone except you. I have never let another man get close to me. It can only be you. Through some ungodly means, through some miracle, some unknown miracle of life, something has happened.

  I have a daughter.

  We have a daughter. You and I, somehow, have a daughter.

  By all laws of nature, this should not be possible. I don't know how, I genuinely was astonished when it happened, and I thought to myself, do I want her?

  I never found the answer to that, truth be told. I still do not know if I truly wanted her, or if I even loved her in the slightest.

  But when you come for me, when you're here to take me away, I request that you take her with you. I fear for the worst and wish, through some means, that she can find a life with you to guide her. Your hands have always felt cold, and yet I found warmth whenever we touch... I want her to feel that same warmth.

  I write this in the hopes that you may accept her, that you may accept the one good thing that will ever come from me. That you will be the father that she needs, as the mother she has, the mother she needs- the mother is not long for this world. Please, I ask with all of my heart, that you take her and turn her into someone I can say I could have been proud of in another life.

  In writing this, I accept my sealed fate. Je serai bient?t dans vos bras, mon beau Faucheur.

  With kind regards,

  -------- Jolivette."

  ...

  Very well...

  "... and so I have decreed it," the Grim Reaper tells Yvette. "Your punishment will be in effect, momentarily."

  This- this concerns Yvette.

  The Grim Reaper, when he was introducing her to Nihil, informed her of things she needed to do at Nihil Center- several things, in fact. So her pathological instinct kicks in, trying to weasel her way out of this punishment to- to try and give a reason as to why she should, in fact, not be punished.

  "W... What? Wait, then what do I do about food?" Yvette asks, feigning shock and leaning forward.

  A mere concern, one that Death has taken great precautions to handle.

  "I have provided you that cafe," the Grim Reaper explains, arms crossed and holding his hand in a palm-up gesture. He knows what Yvette is doing, and he counters. "It comes with nutrient cookies and that hot cocoa stuff you love. You have everything you need to survive in your realm, Yvette."

  Tch- Yvette wants to argue against this because the nutrient cookies taste awful... but if she says that, then he'll just replace the cafe with something else. The hot cocoa is worth the sucky food.

  So she needs a new angle... what about her job? If she argues for her duties... maybe the Grim Reaper will be lenient. "B-But what if I need to turn in the journal?" she asks instead, deciding to play the 'how do I do my job' angle. "If it gets full, then—"

  "Realmkeeper Astra," the Grim Reaper interjects, "has decided to give you one of his workers to carry out that responsibility instead. You will be supervised every step of the way to carry out your duties."

  All of this is literally because Yvette didn't stick to doing her job in the first place... there was no, NO way that the Grim Reaper would have ever accepted that excuse. It's best to put her in the care of a trusted worker, an entity best suited to properly supervise her.

  If Yvette truly meant those words, that she felt that sympathetic pride in caring for the ghosts, then it should be no trouble whatsoever to be put under supervision.

  Yvette saw it as trouble, though. Now there's going to be some creepy orange weirdo trying to keep watch over her, everything she does and stuff... ugh!

  Yvette scrambles and rummages through her thoughts and pulls excuses out of that brain of hers. Any excuse that she could come up with, any excuse that could get her out of this, any sort of excuse.

  "W... What if, what if I need to go to the bathroom?!"

  ...

  Okay, so what in Nihil did Yvette just ask...?

  This question is what briefly stumps the Grim Reaper, solely because it was the most outlandish excuse that Yvette could ever come up with. A topic that has him reeling, just- just reeling from this. If he had eyelids, he'd be opening them wide in pure shock and befuddlement. The way that this question hits, it just... wow.

  The Grim Reaper has to answer that, hm?

  "... then paperwork will be done to give you a bathroom in your realm," the Grim Reaper explains. "If you truly do need to use one of those."

  "I-I... w... why exactly did you think I wouldn't need to?" Yvette asks, raising an eyebrow.

  "Oh, for void's sake... Yvette, not a single other entity in Nihil needs to," the Grim Reaper bluntly answers, exasperated and sighing about the fact he has to tell her this. "You've been here for days, Yvette."

  Ugh.

  Yvette doesn't know what disgusts her the most about this information...

  "Now, if that's all the objections you have..." the Grim Reaper idly mutters, changing the topic right away.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Yvette thought she should object, maybe stall for time to come up with something new, but she doesn't. Firstly, it's blatantly obvious that the Grim Reaper knows she's trying to make excuses. It isn't really worth it at this point, Yvette would only dig a deeper hole for herself if she continues.

  Secondly, in realizing that she can't come up with an excuse, Yvette's found the perfect train of thought to turn this punishment around. If paperwork can be done to get her a bathroom, then what else can it get her in this punishment? A movie theater? An arcade? Her own, personal mansion? Hmm.

  "... I guess I should ask, how do I actually... get the bathroom? Like, paperwork, do I fill it out myself, or—"

  The Grim Reaper shrugs. "It is out of my hands. To be honest, I have delegated the procedure of your realm to Realmkeeper Astra's dominion. Paperwork may be done for whatever you need, yes, but Astra and his people will be in charge of what gets approved and what doesn't."

  "Right, and... would Astra hypothetically approve a—"

  "Full disclosure, I suggest you keep your request simple and refrain from making any further outlandish request, Yvette. The ice you stand on is paper."

  Ah, right...

  Yvette realizes it's going to be a lot of work to get away with everything. But if she puts enough thought into the paperwork itself, she could probably deck the void out of her realm...

  "... I see. Well, then... I guess that's that," Yvette speaks up, feigning disappointment in her defeat. "Time for the punishment, then..."

  For a brief moment, the Grim Reaper seemed like he wanted to say something else. He doesn't, however, and just sends Yvette on her merry way, flicking his finger and launching her out of his office.

  Launching.

  Yvette, with the most nonchalant look on her face, is flung through an intangible hallway of darkness, thrown out of the office, and sent to the train station. On her merry way back to her realm, with eyes on her to make sure she gets on that train.

  With that, the Grim Reaper is left on his lonesome, left to his affairs.

  "..."

  ... and Death sighs. He takes the time to read over the report again... left to think about it. Every excruciating detail of Yvette's unprecedented mistake.

  Death knows, above all else, that he has just let Yvette off with a slap on the wrist. Punishing her to a realm, free to continue working and filing paperwork to add more to it. This isn't a proper punishment for fundamentally wiping away a poor amnesiac ghost's entire identity.

  Yet, that's the punishment he's chosen. Death has decreed it, and so he must honor his own will.

  His hand puts the report down, and reads a different piece of paper... a letter. A letter written by a curious sort, someone whose very existence also befuddles him. One of the few people who have bypassed the laws of life and death, a miracle that surprises him in such a mind-boggling way.

  Yvette truly takes after her mother in that regard, really.

  Death holds onto this letter, fingers clinging to this letter. The raw energy exuded from this letter has him stare at it for a prolonged period of time, to remind himself of why he's putting up with Yvette...

  Then, the sound of a bell rings out.

  And he asks not for whom the bell tolls.

  Death snaps out of it and looks forward. Placing the letter back into his drawer, and closing it. "Come in."

  Promptly, a figure is brought forward to Death. One of the many receptionists of Nihil Center, a spiritual being holding a clipboard to her chest. Her eyes look nervously at the Grim Reaper, to Death himself with an anxious look on her face.

  "Ah, yes. What is it?" asks Death. "Please, what business do you have with me?"

  It takes the receptionist time to get her words out. Shock is plastered on her face, with nervous sweat trailing down the side of her face. Eventually, she mustered the courage to submit her request. "... sir, there's something you have to see. Are you free right now?"

  Death curiously tilts his head at this, having waited patiently for her request. "I suppose I can make a stop on the way," he responds, getting out of his chair and walking around the desk. "Let us be off."

  The two promptly step out of the office, the void fading away. Death floats forward along with the ghost, and the two fade back into existence.

  They instantaneously arrived in the depths of Nihil Center, a floor completely isolated from the rest of the center. A chamber of pure white, with several rooms holding souls. A room reminiscent of mortals as a sort of jailhouse, a primitive prison with the security that Nihil has to offer.

  As Death and the fellow worker float along, Death is led to one door in particular. The one that held the notorious golden ghost of 4-C: Saleh.

  The golden, chiseled man is rendered passive. Currently, he is locked and forced into a deep sleep, stored away on Death's orders. He cannot see, he cannot hear, and he cannot feel. He can only exist, in his dormant state.

  "Right... what is the interesting thing?" Death asks as he gazes upon this soul and examines him. The soul remains the same as ever, with no visible change. "This is one of the ghosts involved in 4-C, right?"

  "Indeed, sir, and... well, the interesting thing is, we've been running some tests and investigations," the worker explains. "We looked through some logs, examined all afterlives we could, closely looked at his essence for any anomalies, and..."

  "... and?"

  "And... we found him," the worker noises. "We found the mortal that aligns with his life. We found Saleh."

  Death's skull looks back to Saleh with a nod. "I see. Well, then. Bring me the deity in charge of his afterlife, then."

  "That would be you, sir."

  "..." Death tilts his head at this. "...?"

  "See, there are no records of a Saleh in the afterlives. He hasn't been processed through a normal afterlife, sir," the worker explains, holding out her clipboard for Death to look at. "The Nihilian facsimile before you is the real Saleh."

  Death looks between this worker and Saleh, astonishment plastered on his skeletal face. "You... you're telling me that Realmkeeper Yvette is—"

  "She got it right. She somehow got it right, sir."

  "... hm."

  Death found himself just leaning forward, ever so slightly. He is maintaining his composure at this revelation. "So. What of the other eleven? What about their fates?"

  "Well, we have yet to identify the mortals, but... we also have yet to find the recorded spirits," the worker responds. "Rest assured, sir, we have our top investigators currently searching for their sakes."

  "And what of this... Saleh?" Death asks. "Is he in sufficient condition to pass on to the afterlife?"

  "Well, contrary to his claims, there are still some chunks missing... many of which, we can inform him right now if we want to. We have his records and everything," the worker explains. "As a mortal, Saleh and his family were devout followers of Islam, so his soul will be tried on their beliefs."

  "I see."

  Death scratches his jawline lightly, thinking heavily about it. A lot weighs on him as he thinks about this decision, as he is forced to make it. It is unprecedented to hear of an amnesiac managing to successfully regain his memory by bypassing all procedures, and...

  ... and Death comes to a decision after a couple of minutes.

  "Alright. Do not inform him of this possibility," Death instructs the worker, ultimately deciding on waiting. "Tell all the workers you need to. We must let him decide if he feels ready to go to his afterlife."

  "And what if he doesn't?" the worker asks.

  "Then we run him through the process as before," Death instructs. "Saleh will be his 'placeholder'. He will still go through the standard procedure, treated as a partial amnesiac. We will see then if he earns his memories and fills in the missing gaps himself. The same goes for the rest. If Nihil discovers their identities and afterlives, we will allow them to go through the same process."

  The receptionist nods. "Very well, sir." Then, she flies off to carry out Death's requests.

  Death, meanwhile, is left to his lone thoughts.

  Yvette is somehow right.

  By some miracle, Yvette ended up at the right conclusion, and he is currently lost in thought about what to do with this information. If, through some lucky miracle, Yvette gets all twelve ghosts' identities correctly, then...

  ...

  ... for now, Death just entrusts Yvette to the care of Realmkeeper Astra. This will simply have to be a matter temporarily postponed and delayed, until further notice.

  Death, for his sanity, is left to hope that Yvette is not right.

  The ramifications of her being right will be utterly devastating.