• He had always watched the world through sleepy looking, half lidded eyes, and his attitude gave people the impression he was so lazy, he didn’t care about others. This couldn’t be farther than the truth, he was rather on the lazier side, but he did care. Sometimes he wondered, maybe if he didn’t care so much, maybe he would still be alive. His lazy attitude also gave people the impression that he didn’t have much emotion unless you woke him up. Again, false. He cared, but right now, more than anything, he was annoyed. Annoyed at their leader, at the reaper, who should do some work, and most of to that stupid father of his girlfriend, the direct cause of his current situation. It was stupid, why he died, he thought as he leaned back in a chair in one of the parlors in this place, it was his fault, but, the dad didn’t have to fly off the hook at it. He frowned, okay, maybe he did, and after all, most parents would. Carefully vacating his seat, Cho made his way to his room, avoiding the places Aku liked to ambush him. He didn’t feel like being her punching bag.
    Opening his door, coming in and shutting it behind him, he slumped against the hard wood, sliding down it until he sat on the floor. His hand in the floor beside clenched into a fist, the water in its various containers around his room shook violently, the liquid rolling into miniature tidal waves. Again, he thought about his death, for the 67th or so time. He had let himself into his girl friend’s house, his blond hair hanging in his almost wavy style, barely touching his shoulders, blue eyes downcast of the news that he knew would not be greeted with enthusiasm. None at all. Walking through the quiet house until he reached the kitchen in the back, that was where her father had told to meet him, right?
    That was when he had been struck from behind. It hadn’t rendered him unconscious, but he could feel blood slowly running down the back of his head. Stumbling, he turned around to face her father, who was red faced and angry as hell, screaming about the exact problem at hand. “You got my daughter F**** pregnant?! My baby?! I thought you were good for her! I was wrong! No, you cannot have her! No, no, no, no…” He threw away the crowbar he had been using and grabbed at Cho’s neck. Attempting to side step, he bumped into the sink, which was full of boiling water for some unknown reason. His hand brushed into it for a second, which gave the deranged parent a moment to act. His hands closed around Cho’s throat, and he forced him down under the hot water behind him. Crushing around his neck, and burning everywhere else, Cho slowly suffocated.
    Suddenly brought back to reality, he realized a glass of water had spilled. Carefully picking up the glass shards, he mopped up the water, still lost in thought. After he was done with his task, he lay back in his bed, not bothering to turn on the lights. In the dark, he drifted back into the past.
    On his first assignment as a death replacement, he had been sent to the funeral of the exact same man who had killed him. Cho had been tempted to refuse to collect him, to let the soul wander in limbo for all eternity… but he didn’t. He sent him on to where ever he was supposed to go. He saw the daughter, his girlfriend; face set resolutely into a hard mask, staring at the ground. He knew she couldn’t see him, but he came up behind her to give her a hug, like he used to do. He noticed some paper crunched in her hand. Abortion papers, they were dated some time ago. The father had signed it. No wonder she lost all love for him. Cho gave her hug anyway.
    His eye’s opened with a snap. Someone had turned on the light, and left a glass of iced tea on the nightstand. He shook his head, to chase away the sad images of the world now without him. God, some times he wondered if it was possible to commit suicide here.