#kami.

The shinigami doesn't necessarily approve of Kanade's answers. Her careless treatment of herself, the way she lived like she was ready to die tomorrow...

Once, she was a version of her too. There was a time the god wasn't just a strange, otherworldly god, warped and twisted by a cruel fate gone wrong and the further strangeness of the vast universe itself. She could hardly call herself a god, despite her many powers and despite her domain. She was something that felt more horrific than that.

Was she just as careless about her own mortal life when she was alive? Probably. It felt so familiar, after all. But there was something painful about watching the girl's life from afar. Watching her own mistakes and misguided trauma responses. This girl's sacrificial behavior was no joke and it was no little thing. This girl really would die tomorrow if it guaranteed the ones around her would finally be happy.

This girl was already losing what little family she had left, after all. And she still felt like it was her own doing. Her own fault.

The shinigami sighed to herself, feeling those usual quiet tears she always, always shed, fall again. Tears that the little composer below couldn't even remember how to produce anymore.