The Crossroads

Nitsuki Amano had always imagined death to be cold. In the tales and stories, the finality of it all was always accompanied by an icy chill. The darkness was supposed to envelop you, swallowing you up and leaving you with nothing but the sound of your own heartbeat until that too faded. The end of all warmth. Just peaceful nothingness as one entered the spirit world, rejoined the stars in the sky, or whatever else.

So then, why exactly did she feel warm?

She was suspended in the air, arms outstretched as if she'd been frozen mid-fall. Yet somehow, that wasn't even the most confusing thing. When she looked around, she didn't see the river or the bridge. Instead, she found herself surrounded by stars. Not the twinkling lights in the night sky kind, but rather glowing orbs that were floating in the air around her. They were beautiful, and yet oddly unsettling.

"What is this? Heaven or something?" she asked aloud. Her voice echoed strangely in this place, like it was bouncing off invisible walls.

She looked down at her body in the hope that would offer her some answers but was disappointed to see that nothing had changed.

"Damn it. Are you telling me that even in death I can't be a real girl?"

A sudden movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye—a figure was approaching her through the starscape.

Was it a shinigami? A kami of some sort? Whatever the case, Nitsuki's heart rate spiked. She was not prepared to have her first conversation in the afterlife. As it came closer, however, she became more confused than frightened.

The figure was not some ethereal beauty or a terrifying specter. It was an old man. A very ordinary-looking, old, Western man. He had a well-kempt grey beard and was dressed in a simple beige coat, trousers, and a cowboy hat. He walked with a cane too, though he didn't seem to need it.

She blinked. She wasn't certain what she had expected, but this wasn't it. She hadn't imagined death to be so… American?

"Yo," he said, giving her a nod.

"Yo," Nitsuki responded reflexively. Then she blinked and shook her head. "Wait, what? Who are you? Where are we?" Her words came out in a rush as she tried to make sense of everything that was happening.

The man loitered in front of her. "Me? Name's Daimon. As far as what this place is? It's the Crossroads." He gave a nonchalant shrug and motioned around with his hand.

Nitsuki eyed him suspiciously. "Daimon? What are you, a D*gimon? Or are you saying that you're some kind of demon?"

He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. "Eh. I don't have a name, really. Daimon just seemed fitting. And I'm not a demon, I'm not anything, really. I just am."

Nitsuki blinked. "You're an American, right?"

"Sure, why not?" He grinned. "Let's say that."

"Okay? Anyway, you said earlier that this is the Crossroads? Does that mean I'm between life and death or something?" Nitsuki was still trying to figure out how she was communicating with him. She was talking, but not Japanese or English. It was a language she'd never heard before, and yet she understood every word.

"Er, not exactly." He looked a bit sheepish.

"Then, is this Yomi? Did I actually die, or…?"

Daimon sighed. "Why don't we start from the top, Nitsuki?"

The use of her full given name startled her. She hadn't remembered introducing herself to him, let alone being familiar enough for him to address her so. But then again, he probably wasn't just any normal man.

He continued speaking, oblivious or simply uncaring of her confusion. "I'm sure you've got lots of questions, but let's take things one at a time. First thing: you're not dead."

Nitsuki stared at him in disbelief. "I'm… not? But I jumped off a bridge. Pretty sure that would kill me."

"True, true. And normally, you'd be right. You would be dead. But I stopped it. See, I've got this power that lets me save people who are in danger of dying." He twirled his cane around like a baton.

"So you're saying you won't let me die?"

"Yes and no. I'm like a… reverse Grim Reaper. I can intervene in someone's moment of death and give 'em a chance to change their fate. If you still want to die though, I can't stop you."

Nitsuki frowned. She wasn't sure what to make of this new information. Was this old man telling the truth? Or was this all some elaborate hallucination her brain had cooked up as her broken body lay at the bottom of the river?

"Why?" Nitsuki asked. "Why save me?"

Daimon gave her a look that was somewhere between amusement and pity. "Because you're interesting. You're one of those rare souls that's worth keeping around."

"Really?" Nitsuki arched an eyebrow. "What makes me so special?"

The old man laughed. "Nothing! Oh, sorry. That probably came out mean, 'twas just a little joke to lighten the mood. You're not really a rare soul or anything like that. But that doesn't matter to me, because everyone is special. Everyone has potential."

Nitsuki sighed. It was clear she wasn't getting any clear answers from him, and the more he talked, the less she understood.

He took a seat on one of the 'stars', leaning forward and resting both hands on his cane. "Anyway, I'll move onto the second thing: you're at a turning point, and your actions here can change the course of your life and others around you."

Nitsuki crossed her arms and gave him a skeptical look. "So, what, this is some sort of afterlife counseling session? Are you going to help me find meaning in my life or something?"

Daimon grinned, and his eyes seemed to twinkle in the light of the stars. "Maybe. But let's jump right into the last thing: you'll get a gift. Everyone I visit does. In fact, I'm sure you've already noticed it."

She looked down at herself but found no gift. Her clothes were the same, her body was the same, and everything seemed the same.

"Are you saying that the gift is life or something? Because if that's all, I would like to request a do-over. Could I reincarnate as a pretty lady?" Nitsuki asked. The idea of spending another day in her current body was enough to make her want to throw herself back off the bridge.

"Oh, you've got a dry sense of humor. I like that." Daimon chuckled and tapped his cane on the ground. "But no, I'm afraid that isn't it either."

Nitsuki raised an eyebrow. "What, then?"

The old man simply gestured to the star he sat on, which had now grown to the size of a door. "Why don't we take a look and find out?"

Before Nitsuki could protest, he had pulled her towards it.

***

She blinked; suddenly she was back on the bridge. The flowers were still there, and the river still flowed below her.

"Welcome back." Daimon's voice came from behind her. She whirled around, and he was there, leaning against the opposite bridge railing. "How do you like your gift?"

"I… still don't understand." Nitsuki looked at him, her brow furrowed. "What's my gift? Teleportation?"

He laughed and shook his head. "No, that's just part of mine. You'll see soon enough the extent of your gift. You may want to steady yourself."

"Wait, what? Hold on!"

Before she could object, the world shifted again. She found herself standing in her usual workplace: Tachibana Goods, a local general store. More specifically, she was in the home part of the shop.

Rikuo Tachibana, the owner's grandson, her work partner, and her only real friend, was busy dusting some shelves in his room. The dust caught in the setting light that streamed in from the nearby windows, causing him to cough and ruffle his short, dark brown hair. He had always been easily irritated by dust.

Nitsuki briefly felt the urge to hide herself. After all, it was a little embarrassing to stand in someone else's house uninvited, and she had only been up here a handful of times. However, after several seconds passed, she noticed that Tachibana didn't seem to even register her existence.

"What's going on? Can't he see me or something?" she asked, glancing over at her strange companion.

"Nope. You're just an observer in this potential future." Daimon grinned.

"…Potential future?"

"Yeah. This is a vision of the future, a possible outcome if you had actually managed to die today. Right now, he doesn't know you're dead, but that'll change later. For now, just wait."

Nitsuki frowned, not entirely understanding what he meant. However, she didn't have to wonder for long.

Tachibana goofily grinned as the dust settled and he turned on the air purifier. "There. All done. That should take care of it."

He took off his apron, hung it up, and sat down in front of his desk. Then, he started messaging away on his phone.

"It's time to be nosy, Nitsuki," the old man commented, pointing to the screen.

"Huh?" She leaned over Tachibana's shoulder to take a closer look.

 > Hey Nia, are you free tomorrow night? I'm thinking of going to the cafe. There's supposed to be an event going on.

 > What do you think? It could be fun. (´｡• ω •｡`)

Nitsuki blinked. Tachibana was super friendly—too friendly, even; he had wormed his way into being her only other contact aside from Maya—but he rarely invited her to events. Where had this come from?

"Wow. He's really trying hard, isn't he? He calls you by nickname, and he's even using emoticons." Daimon commented.

Her eyebrow quirked up. "He's just always like that, and the nickname isn't unique. Maya used to call me that too."

"…Are you not aware, or are you just dense?" He gave her an incredulous stare. "You realize he likes you, right? That's what the message is implying."

She scoffed. "I think you're reading too much into it. I've known him my entire life. He likes girls—real ones. There's no way he would like, well…" She trailed off, not finishing her sentence. She didn't need to say anything else.

Daimon waved his hand dismissively. "Never mind. Just keep watching."

Tachibana sent another message. This time, he included a picture of a poster for the event.

 > I know that the owner can be a little prickly sometimes, but I'm sure she'll warm up to you this time. She's got a bit of a soft spot for cute things. (*￣▽￣)b

"…" Nitsuki's cheeks heated up at the implied compliment. There he was again, being way too polite. She was many things, but cute wasn't one of them. No amount of soft clothing or long hair would ever manage to change that.

"You're getting a little red there." Daimon prodded her in the side. "Admit it. You're flattered."

"Obviously. But Tachibana is nice to everyone." Nitsuki brushed off his teasing.

The old man rolled his eyes. "Mhm. Okay then, Miss Denial."

As the minutes ticked by without a reply from her, Tachibana's expression began to shift from cheerful to worried.

 > Hey, Nia, are you there?

She obviously didn't answer, and Tachibana began to fidget. He tapped his fingers against the desk, drummed his feet against the floor, and sighed every few minutes.

Nitsuki occupied the time by just gazing at him. Tachibana was a fairly average looking guy, but not in a bad way. He always had a smile on his lightly freckled face, and his dark brown eyes had an approachable glitter that easily made people comfortable.

After a sizable stretch of time had passed with nothing really happening though, Nitsuki stared over at Daimon.

"So uh, is this my gift then? I get to be a voyeur now or something? Because if that's all…"

"Keep waiting. The next part is about to happen," the old man replied, waving her off again. "Oh, and remember that you can't change anything that happens here, even if you want to."

"What do you mean by—" Her words were cut off as everything around them shifted once again, and the room disappeared into the darkness.