87dance - i love your complex

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At the end of the world, that is, in the realm of death, only silence remained.

Some might call that silence peace,

but in reality, it was a soundless silence, close to numbness.

We worked there.

Each with a scythe.

Each with an expressionless face.

The name 'Reaper' was grand.

Just because we dealt with death,

it didn't mean everyone became a cool and dignified being.

To be precise, we were like office workers obsessed with performance.

A list would come down, we'd pick up our scythes,

end a life, and then return; that was all.

But I was moving a little differently.

My scythe was rusty, and my hand always hesitated.

My colleagues called me 'a reaper unlike a reaper.'

Perhaps that was accurate.

I was a reaper neither proud nor practical.

A few days ago,

a child's mother appeared on my list.

The child's father had already died several years ago,

and the remaining two lived in a small, quiet house.

I went to the doorstep of that house.

And stopped.

Because I saw the child.

Small, smiling brightly, with a toy in hand.

The moment I saw that smile,

I couldn't bring myself to lift the scythe.

I thought it would be better for me to lose performance points and be reprimanded by my superior.

And as expected,

my manager slammed his hand on the desk, scolding me.

"How can you fail at something so simple? Don't you know emotions are a luxury?"

I said nothing.

Because I already knew it was pointless to speak.

After that,

another list came to me.

Her name was on it.

When I first saw her,

I thought she was a person who smiled a lot.

She got along well with those around her,

and readily granted others' requests.

But after observing her for a few days, I understood.

She wasn't someone who 'couldn't refuse,'

but simply someone who thought of others first.

That's a little different from being merely kind.

To extend one's heart to someone, even at one's own expense,

is more dangerous, and more human, than anything else.

She was on the list.

This time... I had to do it.

Without hesitation, I simply had to finish the job.

It was a rainy evening.

Grey clouds hung low,

and the road was wet.

I was walking behind her,

repeating only what I had to do in my mind.

She turned her head.

Following her gaze,

there was a cat crossing the road.

Above the cat's head floated a mark.

It was a sign only I, a reaper, could see.

She smiled at the cat.

It was that quiet smile people make when they see a small animal.

At that moment, I almost smiled too.

But it wasn't the time.

A truck was speeding from afar.

The driver was looking at his phone,

and the cat, unaware, was slowly crossing the road.

"No!"

She ran.

I, clutching my scythe, couldn't move.

The sound of brakes.

Skidding tires.

An umbrella flying away.

And silence.

When I carefully opened my eyes,

the truck was spewing smoke after crashing into the guardrail,

and she lay quietly on the roadway.

The cat sprang out from her arms.

The mark was gone.

She smiled one last time.

Like someone who had gained something,

like someone who had understood something.

In that moment, I thought.

Perhaps the reason she appeared on the list was to tell me that

a heart willing to help someone can ultimately save another's life.

My scythe was rusty,

but at that moment,

it held a quiet light.

And that light,

at the boundary between this world and the other,

seemed to embrace me warmly, if only for a moment.

Author: 87dance

Publisher: Warner Music Korea