Takeshi had always thought of death to the be the end, the resolution to his story.
He was never the religious type, so an afterlife was out of question. To him god was more or less a waste of time, something which if he had time and energy to expend believing in an ominous overlord he obviously wasn't working hard enough. It was with this mentality that he contently sat in the darkness induced by his coma. He believed firmly in the eternity of his end, that for as long as his consciousness was still present, the never ending darkness before him would remain. It was only a matter of time before he adjusted to the lack of stimuli and stopped working.
He was simply an obscure book waiting to be closed and forgotten in the library of life. After all there was no story past its ending.
Despite all this, deep down he still wished to be allowed to live. That even if it was an eternity of numbness and darkness, it had to be better than just simply not existing. Fading was so painful, so much so that he was sure simply being, even if it was just being without reason, had to be better.
It was then in the darkness he felt his nose prickle. The fact that he felt his nose was a miracle of its own, but he silently prayed. There was no desperation, or happiness, or any emotion for that matter in his prayers. He just simply latched on before vying for more.
Then came the distinct sour smell of lemons which had never smelled so sweet in his life. It reminded him of the zesty disinfectant the hospital used, except less synthetic. For a brief second, a weak sense of joy washed over him before quickly disappearing as it had never been there in the first place. His senses eventually returned one at a time, each one the strongest it had been in ages. The weariness and weight he felt in the hospital bed were no longer there and neither were the tubes nor the needles for that matter. Rejuvenation would have been a clear understatement, but being reborn was too far fetched. He didn't feel alive, but he was no longer dead. An empty sly smile took his face.
The great Kazami had trumped death. That was a story to tell hi-
Suddenly he felt his ass making contact with the firm deck of the ship.
"Welcome to Hell, you brats. You should be past the puberty phase by now, right?"
Finding himself dripping with water that smells of lemons he opened his eyes before finding himself staring at red head to whom he had assumed was the speaker. If this was hell, then she must be the Devil. Was the Devil suppose to be so attractive and human looking? Then she spoke.
"I was expecting fire and brimstone, not a latino woman's wet dream."
Nope, different voice from before. Not the Devil but still good looking. Propping himself into an upright position, he tilted his head backwards to find a dark skinned figure with tall beautiful horns. Ah, that was more like it.
At first he had thought it was likely a joke, that his co-workers were probably using this as a method of mocking him. The more he thought however, the more likely it seemed he was actually in Hell. His co-workers didn't have the time to pull of such a prank, nor did they have the energy or interest. Unconsciously, he was reassured that his thoughts were right, that Hell really did exist. After all, where do all the bad kiddies go when they get put down? The thought bothered him. He wasn't too fond of the idea of meeting old acquaintances.
Takeshi instinctively observed his surroundings thoroughly. The dancing clouds, the fantastic display of childish toys turned into weapons soaring above his head, the river that smelled of lemons...
It definitely wasn't what he expected, or anyone would have expected for that matter, but he kept his mouth shut. The red head had already made that fact clear and he was sure she didn't like parrots (maybe that's why she was down here, killed a parrot or two for fun?), not to mention he also preferred a Hell with less suffering. Makes it all the more bearable.
"So...which kill got me down here?" he muttered looking at the man with the majestic horns, his voice lined with strong interest and a drop of sarcasm, "Or was Kazami Takeshi just a bad, bad boy?"