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5012’s office door greeted you quietly. Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork and paperwork again.

At this point when you thought about 5012, senior Grim Reaper and your trainer, you could only picture his face covered by stacks of paper.

Was that normal? Why would a place full of dead people need so many files?

Souls probably, classified information, those terminated reapers in need of rescue and yada yada yada.

You fumbled with the edge of your shirt, stalling. 0204, Atlas, was nowhere to be found, probably off to sleep or… honestly you didn’t know. Did you even want to know?

Your section of HQ was quiet. Time was frozen in the Underworld, but it was supposed to be past midnight in the human world, and Reapers either set out for missions or rested around that time, for convenience. In all that stillness, and boredom, you thought that it would be a good idea to greet your oh so dear trainer. 

Taking for granted his probable irritation… ahem.

How should you even approach him? It was never easy, but not difficult either. You kind of rehearsed your greeting while climbing the stairs to his office: barging into the room rather loudly and risk getting punched in the face.

No, you thought, you would revisit the idea for another day.

And there you were, listening to the led lights buzzing above you. In silence.

Waiting, anticipating.

“Are you going to come in or not?” His voice, muffled by the door. It didn’t even scare you, it just surprised you a tiny bit.

“Just so you know, you probably look stupid standing idle like that, especially out of my office,” he continued. Rude. “First of all,” you slowly pushed the door open, “rude.”  Your face peered from the crack. “Second of all,” you slid in the room, closing the door behind you, “you’re ugly.”

A smile adorned your lips, yet the man on the other side of the office, sitting behind his desk, didn’t even raise his eyes, “you’ll find out that I do not care about your opinion of me 0213.” He flipped a file over, unbothered. "Especially when it’s uncalled for.” What a grump.

In the new found silence you took in his office again. It was the same as always, but every time something appeared and disappeared. A stack of files, an unfinished cup of coffee, 5012’s coat on the chair, books opened on random pages and so on. It was like an ecosystem, a very sad one of course. Changing and working in its own way.

“Why are you here, 0213? You’re awfully quiet,” the grumpy, ugly, boring, absolutely lame man spoke again. “Ah, uhm, I was distracted sorry,” you walked further into the room. “Distracted by?” He barely raised his eyebrows, “why you of course,” you teased, smiling.

5012 refused to look at you, and to entertain you.

“Do you need help big boss?” You peered over the stack of papers. “Hardly, you’d only make things… harder."

“Tell me about it,” a stupid grin formed on you face, eyes wandering around before setting on the guy in front of you, who was already looking at you, sternly.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” you raised your hands defensively, only relaxing after his glare left you.

“Can I at least stay here?” You probably would’ve stayed anyway. “Why?” “There’s no one around and nothing to do.” “Go rest.” “I can’t.” “Why not?” “How would I know? I still don’t understand this Grim Reaper body,” you huffed, he sighed.

“Just be quiet.” He rubbed his temples, sliding his fingers down his face in resignation.

A few minutes went by, you could only hear your breathing and the occasional pen scratching the paper's surface.

5012’s office was very dark, and very purple… dark purple. You slowly made you way around it, taking in the subtle details, the titles of the books, the pattern of their covers, the arrangement of the tiles on the floor. Some were uneven.

Your curiosity took you to the big window. Looking down you saw a street, in front of you endless “sky scrapers”. 

You knew the word, but never actually stopped to think about it, how could a building scratch the sky if there was no sky?

“How high up are we?” You leaned against the glass. “If you’re planning to jump down I’d advise against it,” he tapped his pen on the desk.

“Wh— Why would I do that?! I already died once,” you twisted your neck to look at him weird. “0204 once said that he wanted to test his fall damage, maybe he shared that stupid idea with you,” you alerted the distinct tone of annoyance in 5012’s voice. “Well, even if he did… I’m not him, and it’s not like I go along everything he does—“

“…?”

“Mostly.” You coughed.

And then silence again. You finished scrutinizing his room and returned in front of 5012, sitting on one of the chairs. “Your office is cozy. I get why you’re always here,” your arms flopped on the table, next to some signed files. “I’m glad it’s to you liking but I’m not always here, 0213.” “Every time I come knocking you’re here.” “Pure coincidence.” “When do you go out?” “Occasionally.”

Silence.

“Are you sure you can’t lie?” You raised one eyebrow. “I can lie, but chose not to,” he huffed. “So you’re not lying now.” “No, 0213, I am not.” “But you’re avoiding the truth. Because it’s a fact that you’re shut in here most of the time,” you’ve been staring at the man for a while now, and just then he returned your gaze.

Not matching your energy at all… but at least he was looking at you.

He cleared his throat. “Should’t you be resting? We have stuff to do in some hours,” you looked at the clock. “I already told you, I can’t fall asleep. Check your hearing grandpa.” You smiled, he did not.

In all honesty, if 5012 could, he’d be smashing his head on the table with much pleasure… and until the surface molded into the shape of his face

“Why did you come here?” He interlaced his hands together, resting his chin against them. Purple irises dug deep into you, were 5012’s eyes always so sharp?

“I wanted to keep you company,” your voice quivered with embarrassment. You wondered, on a scale from 1 to 10, how much you looked stupid while saying that.

“I do not need your company, 0213.” He repeated the word with a strange tone, almost as if he was pronouncing it for the first time. “Wow you’re so emo.” You dead panned. “Here I was trying to be kind,” you continued, folding your arms. “I don’t need your kindness either, you’ll see that’s something the Underworld is lacking.” The senior Grim Reaper grimaced.

“I guess I’ll be the first kind Grim Reaper,” you whispered to yourself, fidgeting with your sleeves.

5012’s eyes snapped to your face, scanning you and maybe your very soul, in a pensive silence. Silly him probably forgot to look away because you caught him right in the act when you focused on him once again.

“Do I have something on my face?” You joked, ignoring the weight of his attention. “No you do not,” he began. “It just surprised me, what you said.” He blinked, dragging his eyes to the window and… staring, glaring, admiring it.

You expected him to elaborate further, but he didn’t, and you both sat in silence once again. It was comfortable, for you of course. For that emo guy over there, probably not. You could only hear outside world, 5012’s office acted as a bubble, quiet, floating over the everything.

“Why?” You heard him ask. To who? You weren’t sure. He wasn’t looking at you. “What?” You asked, caught off guard.

You swore you saw his body shake and stiffen, barely, but you knew it did. His eyes were on yours again, for one second he looked startled and the next it was gone.

“I,” his mouth hung agape in thought. “I think you should go 0213,” his voice gradually got colder, back to his usual tone huh. “Why?” You asked, confused.

Why.

“I need to continue with my work, alone. You are distracting in the worst ways,” he fixed his necklace and jacket, nervously. “Did I do something?” “Just go, I’ll see you later for training,” he refused to look at you.

You could only imagine the consequences of pushing him too far, so you let it go.

“Okay,” you got up, the leather of the chair creaking under your weight.

“Goodnight then, or good day,” you put on a light hearted tone while walking backwards towards the door, 5012 never looked at you. Your smile faltered. Finding the handle you disappeared once again, in the cold and silent halls of the building.

Why?

If eyes could burn, 5012’s office door would’ve been reduced to ashes. Brows furrowed, eyes squinted, various lines caused by tension decorated the man’s face.

His body was still stiff, until he deflated all at once, fingers creeping up to rub his eyes in frustration? Anger? Tiredness? Fuck him if he knew. Staring at the spot you left empty, 5012’s night went on.

A sound from your computer caught your attention, you rolled on your bed, one of the plushies from the infamous claw machine in your arms.

Another sound, and another. “Hmpf,” you wobbled towards your desk.

Atlas: “Earth, or idk, to Y/N” Atlas: “I was thinking, why not go try to make a mysterious food from we find in the kitchen? Who knows how the Underworld stuff reacts to each other…” Atlas: “Helloooooo???”

You stared at the text, grinning.

0213: “Hi chicken” Atlas: “I’m not.” 0213: “Honk honk” Atlas: “That’s not how chickens sing” 0213: “How do you know?” Atlas: “I saw a video duh” 0213: “Did you now…” Atlas: “Here look” Atlas: *1 attachment

…

0213: “woW” Atlas: “Aaaaaaanyways,,, how are you? Wanna hit the kitchen?” 0213: “Not today sorry, I have a lot on my mind.” Atlas: “I want to have your lot on my mind swell ;)” 0213: “5012 was mean to me” 0213: “:(((((((“ Atlas: “hOw Dare he, cold hearted king!” Atlas: “He’s such a doofus.”

You would’ve searched the meaning of that word later.

0213: “Has he been weird with you too or…?” Atlas: “He’s always weird with me, I mean in the mean way.”

You asked a stupid question. Or just to the wrong person.

Atlas: “Maybe he’s in THAT time of the month.” 0213: “Huh” Atlas: “Idk dude, he probably hadn't had his coffee when you talked to him.” 0213: “We’ll wait and see, now go be useful to the world.” Atlas: “You mean being absolutely useful to society and sending the claw machine in bankruptcy?” 0213: “Honestly I don’t even remember what that word meant but sure, pop off diva!”

You logged out of your iReaper, pondering on what to do in this soon to be boring day.

5012 hadn’t called any meeting nor training yet, which was weird, but until further notice you were free. As much as you were.

It wasn’t like your newborn soul was chained with this association of Grim Reapers that totally killed people, without a way out. Heh. Free time!

Although, it confused you. 5012, senior Grim Reaper, role model, dutiful worker deathly dedicated to his job, didn’t alert you about working. Nor training, not even complaining about some crazy shit 0204 pulled. 

Checking up on him wouldn’t have been a bad idea, not a good one either. Your feet went on autopilot and when you snapped out of your thoughts, you were back in front of that office.

Determine as you were nothing could’ve stopped you!

“Oh 5012!” Hand on the door handle you were ready to burst in until… the door didn’t budge.

“Huh,” you rattled it, lightly at first, then harder, gripping it with your whole strength, making the whole door shake.

He either closed you out or wasn’t in the room at all.

You could’ve knocked this thing down. No, too extreme. Resting your hands on your hips you huffed. “I guess I’ll come back later. With a chainsaw. This isn’t over, fuckass door.” You glared daggers at the piece of building as you walked away.

Your steps faded out and silence settled back in, the two men in the room relaxed.

“Didn’t know your trainee was so, direct,” the white haired guy spoke first. “What was direct in what they did?” 5012 asked, annoyed. “Almost taking the door out of its hinges.” “They’d know better.” “Are they always like that?” “Abrupt?” “Yeah.” “I’ve got two of them, actually three with you.” “Hey, rude.” “Casper, you should go, wouldn’t want to be eavesdropped on a second time.”

1 am. You were back. Along with your… will? You couldn’t find a chainsaw.

Skipping the knocking you directly went to the offensive, trying to open the door, which again, didn’t budge. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you cursed under your breath, pushing and pulling it angrily. Suddenly you heard a clicking sound, and got dragged along the door as it opened. Revealing a very, very, annoyed 5012.

Your hands were glued to the handle, sweaty.  “Oops, hi boss,” you did everything you could to avoid his gaze. “Sometimes I wonder why they made you a Reaper 0213,” he sighed. “I guess I’m that good,” a stupid grin was plastered on your face, letting go of the door. “I half thought you wouldn’t be here, and actually asleep,” you continued. “So you DO spend all your time in here,” you pointed an accusing finger to the tall man. “Is that why you’re here?”  “Yes and also, uhm, to ask why there wasn’t training today.” “Paperwork kept me busy,” his voice was lower than usual, taking a good look at him, you noticed that he looked more tired. And that was surprising considering he looked tired all the time.

“Can I help?” You smiled, encouraging the man to say yes. “No,” he replied quickly, “but, I appreciate the offer.”

Your stomach flipped upon hearing 5012’s tone soften. Damn.

“Of course,” you looked down at the floor. “Can I at least stay here? I’ll be good!” “I have a feeling that you will stay regardless of what I may say,” the Grim Reaper sulked away, defeated, and headed back to his desk. “You know me so well!” You followed him with a skip in your step.

The night passed in the quiet of 5012’s office. Having small talks every now and then, insulting each other.

The thought of your trainer never resting lingered.

Persistently. 

You weren’t REALLY worried though.

...

Ok, you were. A tiny bit.

So you kept “visiting”, sacrificing your nights to stay with him and the days to hang out with 0204. After a while you also resumed training.

5012 never questioned the real reason behind your nightly appearances, and if he was bothered by it, he didn’t show it through and through.

It became a habit, going to the “purple room”. Every night he was in his spot, refusing to rest. Because his job was his life, and he wanted to feel alive, to have a purpose.

A week passed of you and him spending your nights together, obviously 5012 couldn’t have a say in this. 

Tonight was no different. You were lounging under the big window, asking stupid questions to the other man, for the sake of wasting his time.

“Why can’t chickens fly?” You quizzed. “How did you learn about chickens?” “Atlas told me about them, they’re cute,” you smiled, focusing on the faraway buildings. Imagining a chicken flying from one to the other. “I don’t know why I’m answering you, but no. From what I know and saw, chickens can’t fly,” 5012 facepalmed, you giggled.

The night went on like that, you asking his favorite candy, him admitting that he never had one, you being shocked before moving on to another question.

Before the both of you realized it, you fell into a habit of being there for each other. Well, sort of.

You fell into the habit of being there and 5012 into the one of, waiting. Waiting for you.

He slowly noticed how he’d think about you in the evening, whether you’d show up or how’d you show up. 

A week in, tonight, before you made your appearance he made sure to tide up any misplaced objects and hide the fragile ones just because he saw you almost trip on yourself during training, and decided that he wanted nothing to do with broken objects.

“I heard that Reapers can fly,” you spoke suddenly, he nodded. “Is there a secret or…?” You tilted your head. “No, it’ll come to you eventually.” The man looked at the window, you followed his line of sight.

There was nothing outside. A dark, empty sky and tall, cold buildings.

You whispered something about reaching the moon, or the sun.

5012 did’t immediately ask you why. He pondered, and wondered how you could remember what those two things were. In the end he did ask, carefully.

When did he start being cautious around you?

“Oh I,” you paused, staring at him. “I don’t. I don’t remember. I just feel that I want to see them.” You smile, a bit confused yourself.  “You could always describe them to me,” you fidgeted with your clothes. "So at least I’d know what I want to reach,” you joked.

The senior Reaper stared back at you. Searching, questioning. He surprised you when he complied, beginning with the Sun.

Pure light, he said, warmth, the opposite of whatever you had seen in the Underworld.

Then the Moon.  Something you figured he preferred by how he talked about it.

“The Moon has been my only companion, since the beginning of this long job. The only real witness of all the souls I’ve taken,” his eyes slowly set on his desk, his hands intertwined.

“Many mortals spoke to the Moon before their end, they asked for mercy, kindness. Sometimes for a reason.” 

He paused, thinking, calculating, recalling. And as quickly as he started, he stopped, abruptly.

“Yeah that’s all.” 5012 cleared his throat, collecting pieces of his cold attitude, building his wall once again. 

You had perked up during his explanation, his delicate tone caught you off guard. So reverent, smooth, chilling.

You decided against teasing him about it. He felt like a wild animal when he was near you. Inching closer, painfully slow and running so far away if noticed.

You kept your tongue in your mouth.

“Just a big ball of light in the sky,” he spoke, rushing his words. “And the other is a smaller ball, white.” 

You nodded. “I’d like to see them one day, maybe even touch them,” you blinked, eyes meeting the vast black sky.

5012 thought about saying something about it being impossible AND dangerous. He did not. He let you dream.

But why did you want to reach the sun, the moon?

Why did you want to be kind?

Why?

Your conversations swayed between unbelievably stupid topics to extremely deep ones in matter of minutes. First you were asking about the moon, then how many plastic balls would be needed to fill the Reaper’s office.  Then about your lost life, and later about fishes.

One day you asked about the stars. You had heard other Reapers talk about them and you, obviously, got curious, and decided to rely on 5012cyclopedia.

“It’s been a while since you asked me about space,” the man noted.  It had been a little more than 2 weeks since you started nagging your trainer.

“They’re small white dots in the sky,” the corners of his mouth curled slightly. “They’re little moons!” You smiled. “Not quite but to the human eye, I suppose.” “Can you reach them?” “0213 we can’t even reach the moon, which is pretty close.”

No response.

Another day you met him at the coffee machine. The first thing you noticed were his prominent eye bags.  Not that he never had them, but they were particularly dark tonight.

5012’s eyes quickly found you. Zeroing on you from the side. “Rough night?” You asked. “Rough everything. 0204 covered my office in confetti.” He looked —more like glared— down at his coffee mug.

A few seconds of silence passed, 5012 suddenly felt his blood pressure rise. “Please don’t ask me anyth—“ “What’s your favorite blend of coffee?” 

Ugh.

And it went on. And on, and on, and on. Night after night.

He thought of you as a nuisance at first, but gradually reconsidered your presence as an ALMOST entertaining one.

He wondered if you sacrificed your sleep for him. The idea made him smile. Wait, no, huh?

Maybe you didn’t sleep at all. Or you did, just not at night.

Until finally, after a month of you stating that 5012 was a recluse who only stayed in his office, his pride took over, deciding to prove you wrong.

How?

One evening he quickly messaged you that he wouldn’t have been in his office that night and to not search him. No further explanation and no clues.

Turns out he decided to hang out on the building rooftop, not expecting you to show up. Firstly because he didn’t tell you where he was, and secondly because you didn’t know how to reach that place.

That is until you, somehow, barged through the stairs’ door.

“How did you—“ “I started asking about you and searching for a way up here as soon as you texted me. It’s that simple.”

No it’s not, it wasn’t, it shouldn’t have been. You’re dumb, stupid. He didn’t say anything.

“Why the change of location?” You walked up to him, looking at the scenery. “Birdwatching.”  You stopped next to him. “There are birds in the Underworld?” “I’m messing with you 0213.”

You snapped your head towards 5012, he was looking at the other buildings ahead.

“Since when do you lie?” “It wasn’t a lie, it was a joke.” “Even worse. Since when can you joke?” “You and 0204 are a bad influence.” “Rude.”

You swore you saw a smirk grace 5012’s face. Your voice and Casper’s mixed in his mind, reminiscing when the other “Reaper” told him the same thing.

“Anyways,” you chirped, “you finally left your office!”

He huffed, annoyed. Was it worth entertaining you? He didn’t answer.

In the quiet of the night you thought that... this was nice, chatting with 5012. Then you noticed that you were smiling to yourself.

Ah…

You shielded you face from him, suddenly embarrassed. If he saw you like that he probably would’ve called you an idiot. Luckily the man was distracted by the dark sky above.

“Say 0213,” he whispered.

Why.

“Why do you want to reach the moon and the sun?”

Your eyes widened, surprised. He remembered that?

“Uhm,” you paused, not exactly knowing why.

The reason was buried in your lost memories. But it felt right —like your name— to grasp at anything and everything connecting you to the human world. To the lost you.

Purple eyes pierced you. Waiting.

“I saw a few pictures of them and I…” the words died in your throat. Your brain was digging, clawing at something that was no longer there. “It just felt… I felt, grief.”

Grief.

5012’s eyes softened. 

He hummed, acknowledging your answer, eyes meeting the sky once more. Oh, how eyes could tell everything. During the shared nights the man had unconsciously learned to read you better. He never wanted to, but still, it happened. His tongue trembled in his mouth.

It downed on him the reality of the situation. Two mortals now dead and reborn anew. Two beings that had to learn how to “live” again, on the rooftop of a random building, in a cold city. Alone.

He thought he got used to it. But you… you were new to this. You truly were alone in that world.

It was a rare occurrence, seeing 5012 have mercy, be kind. But that night, engulfed in death with you, he gave you solace.

“0213,” his tone was painfully delicate. Only then you noticed the proximity. It was both suffocating and comforting at the same time.

You hummed low, curious. Some time ago, you'd never thought you'd find yourself having serious talks with 5012. You only ever wanted to poke him. Annoy him. But you longed for more. You yearned. In him you could start seeing a person. Someone worth discovering. Someone that made your heart squeeze and your stomach twist. Because he knew what having it hard felt like. Only God knew how your lived your human life. Yet your body remembered. In him you saw someone who could understand, even if he refused to. And then, only then, the man showed a piece of his heart. To you.

“I will show you the moon.”

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍

AN URGENT 🆘 CALL FROM @mahmoudgazza1

studying computer engineering and work in a programming company during his studies. He got married before the war and lived with his wife who is currently pregnant. In the current situation, Mahmoud lost his job and his income, he can't provide his family and his wife.

His pregnant wife need vitamins and proper care,

His family need winter clothes and a tent to survive the current weather in Gaza 🍉🇵🇸🇵🇸

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