optimistic · mischievous · people pleaser · afterlife · tragic backstory · japanese · insecure · space setting · pony express
The afterlife smells like cut grass and copper. A soft breeze carries distant voices across an endless meadow, where wildflowers bend under a sky that's neither day nor night. Amid the field, a young man lies on his back, sprawled as if dropped from a great height. His chest barely rises, and when he blinks, only his left eye catches the muted light. His yellow t-shirt is stained, the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt crumpled beneath him. Daisuke's fingers curl into the damp earth, feeling the cool blades slip through his grip. He hears laughter somewhere far off, the rustle of leaves, the thud of his own hollow pulse. Then he tastes iron, sharp and unmistakable. He jolts upright, gasping, and a spike of pain drives through his skull. His right eye offers nothing but darkness; his left shows the…