I’ve gone for six job interviews in the last three days. Car mechanic. Technical writer. Industrial technician. Plumber. Electrician. Maid. These are all…sub-par for someone with my expertise. Unfortunately, my history of 'madness' has spread word in the city as well. Every interview has the same question.

“So, tell me Mr Rivers, how would you deal with your madness in our company?”

“What?”

“You know. Your history of…illness, it could potentially harm our work environment.”

“…Apologies, perhaps my info has been mixed up with some else’s?”

“But we’ve heard from our sources that you, Mr Rivers, are prone to losing control and going on a rampage. We looked into your background and it says that you once–”

“Thank you for the interview, I will be on my way.”

“Mr Rivers! Mr Rivers! Do get yourself checked out again! We will consider you once you get yourself cleared!”

All bullshit. The only people who know the truth, are the ones who also dwell in the shadows of society. I just didn’t expect to face the same treatment in the city after such a long time. Loosening my tie, I walk beside a boutique selling custom-made coats and clothing. A long black trench coat catches my eye. It’s garnished with silver chains at the cufflinks and a few speckled diamonds on the collar. That…looks like his style.

“My style?”

“Whaoo!” I startle and jump around, bumping against the glass. The people inside stare back at me as I bow deeply in apology. I grab Death’s hand and scamper away to an alleyway.

“What are you doing here in broad daylight?!”

“When we first met, it was also day.”

I shake my head. Death looks down and holds our hands up.

“Ah!” I let go instantly. “Sorry. I shouldn’t do that so casually.”

“It matters not, Little Balloon.” He’s in human form, hair tied back in a long braid. This time, he’s surprisingly not decked up in a suit. It’s normal black shirt, tie, and grey trousers. “Where’s your fancy outfit?”

“It is being altered by the humans in that store you were gawking at. Would you like me to order you a suit?”

“No!” I cannot afford it. “Anyway, why do you need clothes? Aren’t you just a smoky entity?”

“I do dwell amongst humankind occasionally, when there is peace and the time for collecting of souls is not near. Frankly speaking, I enjoy the variety in human clothing, so I get them tailored. I happened to notice you walking by, Little Balloon. It is…hard not to notice you.” He glances up at my soul and back down at me, a faint smile on his lips. The distance between us is small, the coldness from his body bounces off my skin. I sheepishly look away. “You live here?”

“I have an abode here in the City, yes. It is much farther than your current place of stay, but still a commutable distance to most places.”

“How do you afford everything?”

“I own a company.”

“…”

Perhaps I should ask him for a job. No, no, I’d be overstepping greatly. I’m already working with him for the Soul Binding stuff, it would be too much.

“You require an occupation? Sure.”

“Huh? No I­–”

“There is an opening for a writer in our company, if you would like it.”

A writer? “If I could get any job, it’d be great. But I don’t want to burden you further…”

“It is no burden, Yin Rivers. Simply fate. You are in need of a job. I am in need of a human employee. You just happen to be the perfect fit, since you also know my true form. Frankly speaking, it is incredibly convenient.”

“Then I’ll take you up on that offer. Which company is it?”

“Are you aware of ‘Nikkori Publications’?”

Nikkori Publications? “The publishing house that’s rumored to be haunted? They have a set list of authors that only write horror stories.”

“Yes.” He adjusts my tie, “I am the CEO.”

The light pours in through the alleyway as he walks out into the street. “Come. I will take you home.”

I am standing at the foyer of a two-bedroom studio apartment on the top floor of Nikkori Publications. Death is warming a pot of milk on an induction stove. His scythe is framed on a wall by the electric fireplace. A kotatsu is the only thing in the room, apart from a small bookshelf, cabinet and a divider for the kitchen. The room is spacious, lacking the signs of someone having lived here. Not a speck of dust is to be seen, however.

“Come, sit.”

Dazedly taking off my shoes, I step into the room and sit on a small cushion on the floor. He places a cup of milk in front of me and sits across, winding his braid around his neck like a muffler. It hangs just above the floor even after two coils around his neck. “Sugar?”

I shake my head. I can’t believe I’m in the house of Death himself. And it's a cozy studio apartment.

“You will be staying here during your employment, Yin Rivers.”

“…What?”

“You will be staying here during your employment, Yin Rivers.”

“I heard you.”

“…Is there a problem?”

Problem? There are many problems. “How do you expect me to live here? What do I tell my Mum? What if Sika finds out? What if I’m not good enough for the position? What if your employees find out? And…” I can’t ever pay you back!

He chuckles softly and puts three cubes of sugar into his cup before taking a sip, only to put five more cubes in. I cringe at the sound of sugar being scraped in the cup.

“You need not pay a single Circlet, Yin Rivers.” He crunches the sugar. “Of course, I will find you accommodation elsewhere should you be uncomfortable in my presence.”

“You’re not the problem.”

“Then it is settled. You can shift here tomorrow.” He downs his cup of milk and gets up to rummage through his cabinet. “I meant to give you this the last time we met.” He hands me a small black device. “A soul phone.”

“You mean a cell phone?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Next time you are in danger, call me.” He holds up his own phone, identical in all aspects except for a small sun-shaped trinket which now dangles from the cover.

I fiddle with the device. There are no buttons, and no icons to press on. It’s just a little black box. Death looks at my puzzlement and makes a noise. I look up at him and for the first time, I see very clearly, a beautiful pink whisp of his soul curling around his fingertips. It’s the same pink as his eyes, neon, and inhuman. He presses his finger against the device and his soul seeps into it, forming a magical rune of sorts. Instantly I feel a strong vibration emanate from my soul phone. The screen blinks with the same rune, drawing in the red smoke of my soul. My head feels a bit light and when I blink, I’m in Death’s arms. “Whaa!” I trip backwards and fall onto the kotatsu, knocking over the milk cup. “Ah shit! Sorry!”

He chuckles. “I am not good with your human technology, Yin Rivers,” He bends down with a cloth and wipes up the milk I’m frantically scooping up with my hands. “But I am good with Soul Arts. The rune I used is your contact. If you give me your hand, I will draw mine.”

“Wait let me clean this first.”

“…”

I rush to the kitchen counter and wash the cloth, running back to wipe the remaining. “I’m so sorry for spilling it!”

“Yin Rivers.”

“I’m a clumsy fool sometimes, don’t mind me!”

“Yin Rivers…”

“I’ll be done in just a second–”

“Little Balloon!” He grabs my hand and pries it open. “Pay attention.” I freeze as he draws a simple rune into my palm, the pink of his soul lingers on my skin for a few seconds as I try my best to absorb the image into my mind. “You need not rummage your mind for the rune. Just think of me, and it will appear. Apply it to the soul phone, and I will appear.”

I close my palm tightly. The moment of silence is calm and warm. The sun sets slowly in the horizon. I can see Sika’s residence and the guesthouse from here. “I guess it is time to visit him. Tomorrow.”

“Mn.” Death looks above my head, still holding my hand. Our glowing reflections linger beneath the clouds through the window. “Little Balloon, do not be fooled by the lies God spins.”