"Do you know why they call me Shinigami?"
A masked man said this to the little boy sitting beside him, looking out at the sunset while clutching a hot cup of tea. It was summer vacation, and little Shin was on holiday with his grandparents.
One day, he wandered off and ended up in a field, where he found an empty barn. He went inside, climbing and playing, until he suddenly slipped and fell into a bathtub filled with cold water.
The owner of the barn—and the small house nearby—was a man wearing a mask.
The masked man entered quietly, only to see a boy soaked, sitting in his sheep-shaped bathtub.
The boy, drenched and shivering, slowly lifted his head. He raised his hands as if surrendering, trembling from the cold.
As his eyes focused, he saw the masked figure standing in the doorway.
It was him—Earth's greatest hero.
The boy's breath caught in his throat. "M-Mr. Shinigami?" he asked nervously.
The man let out a sigh, then said, "Follow me."
Shin thought he was in trouble but followed anyway.
Without a word after that, the man led him to his home.
He gave Shin an oversized set of clothes—because that was all he had—wrapped him in blankets, made hot tea, and sat beside him on the porch.
The man started, "What is your name, little boy?"
He replied with excitement, "Shin!"—thrilled to be having tea with his favorite hero.
The man repeated it: "Shin."
His voice, Shin noticed, was always calm and soothing, like talking to an older best friend or something like that.
"Shin, where do you stay?" the man asked.
"Oh! I'm currently living with Grandma and Grandpa. Our home is just down the block," Shin replied, sitting up a little straighter.
The man nodded. "Okay. That means you wandered off."
"Yeah…" Shin said, scratching the back of his head with an awkward smile.
He took a sip of his tea. After a while, he said, "Mr. Shinigami, sir, I've been wanting to ask something."
Mr. Shinigami nodded. "Go on."
"Why do demons attack us humans? Why can't we just live in peace?"
He looked down at his tea, then added, "Mom said some demons actually look like humans… and that I should be careful outside."
"Not all of them are bad… are they?" Shin continued.
"Even the news talks about bad people, don't they?"
The man stared in the boy's direction, then placed a hand on his chin. After a short pause, he asked,
"I'll answer your questions, but first… tell me, Shin—do you want to become a demon hunter like me when you grow up?"
Shin looked down, thinking.
"I don't know," he said. "I just feel like… just because some people—or demons—are bad, it doesn't mean we should say they're all bad. So hunting them down… wouldn't that be unfair?"
The man looked at him, face still hidden behind the mask, but his expression—though unseen—felt surprised.
After a moment, he asked,
"What age are you, Shin?"
Shin smiled and replied,
"Just 10. But Mom says sometimes I talk like a grown-up."
"You think a lot for a 10-year-old," the man said.
Shin shrugged. "I just think… if someone gave them a chance, maybe they wouldn't be bad."
The man let out a quiet breath, almost like a sigh.
"You remind me of someone I used to know," he said.
He paused, then added, "Someone who asked the same questions… before I stopped asking them myself."
Then he turned slightly toward Shin.
"Do you know why they call me Shinigami?"
Shin shook his head.
"Nope. Isn't it just a cool name? Like a hero name?"
Mr. Shinigami replied,
It was actually given to me by a demon general who claimed to have once seen the real Shinigami—the true God of Death before he took that title.
"He gave me that name."
He paused, his gaze distant.
"I remember that day so well—the 53rd war between humans and demons."
He glanced at Shin, then tilted his head slightly, thinking.
"The battlefield was very, very… how would I put it? You're still a child."
He gave a soft chuckle that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Okay, let's go with very scary."
"Both humans and demons were at full-on war. I think that was when I had just become a demon hunter. A fresh recruit. And they sent us straight to the battlefield."
He leaned back slightly, his voice quieter now.
"I thought it was bad luck for us new recruits. We hadn't even gone on a single demon combat or expedition yet… and there we were—thrown into a war zone."
There was a pause. His tone shifted, heavy and slow, as if remembering something that still lingered.
"A place where even the strongest fall," he said, almost to himself.
"Then there were the five greatest heroes of that time," Mr. Shinigami said. "Some were my mentors. Do you know them?"
Shin nodded eagerly. "Yes! I learned their names in school. I heard each of them stood strong in the last war, fifteen years ago. That was before I was born."
He paused, thinking. "My teacher said humans had the advantage at first… until a new rift through space opened. And behind it was a full-on horde of demons."
"The Five Heroes of that time burned through their lifespans to gain more strength—to hold on in the war and try to end it," Mr. Shinigami said.
Shin tugged on his clothes and asked, "What's the meaning of lifespan?"
Mr. Shinigami looked at him, a small smile playing beneath his mask.
"You understood all the other words—like expedition—but not lifespan?" He chuckled softly.
"I guess you're still a kid."
He paused, then explained,
"Lifespan is how long someone—or something—can live. Like, how many years a person usually has before they grow old and… well, before their life ends."
He paused thoughtfully.
"Some people live a very long time, some less. But when the heroes 'burned through their lifespans,' it means they used up a lot of their life's time to get stronger, even if it made their lives shorter."
Shin asked, "Was the war really that bad?"
The man nodded. "Yes. And let me tell you a secret you won't see in history books. Even after the heroes sacrificed themselves, they took out all the dangerous demons with them. So what remained were some demons—plus a demon general. The one who named me."
He glanced at Shin again, eyes distant. "That was when my mentor called out to me before leaving. He said something I'll never forget:
'Rei, I know you want to try and make peace with the demons, but we are currently on the battlefield. You have good instincts when it comes to fighting, so please, for my sake, protect our people, family, and friends who hope for us to win, who are counting on us.'"
He paused, voice heavy with memory. "At that moment, I had to decide what should be achieved now—world peace or the fate of millions counting on us on the battlefield. I knew that once I attacked a demon and then later proposed peace, it wouldn't happen. But lives were at stake."
The man's tone grew firm. "Then I decided on another way and instead took command of the battlefield and directed my fellow comrades in the war. We pushed back, making some progress.
But then everything changed. The last remaining demon general—who had been neutral up until then—entered the battlefield. He had only watched from afar, commanding his underlings. Maybe he saw we were gaining ground... so he stepped in early.
"And let me tell you this, Shin—demon generals aren't to be played with. Their strength easily matches that of thousands, if not tens of thousands, of demon hunters."
Shin's breath caught. "Tens of thousands…?"
Mr. Shinigami nodded. "It turned from resistance into a slaughter. We humans were losing fast. I saw many friends—full of dreams and hopes—falling on the battlefield. I still tried to order them, but it was no use against the demon general."
He shifted slightly. "Then I took up a horse and dashed forward myself."
Shin interrupted, "Wait, there were horses?"
Mr. Shinigami then replied, "Did I forget to tell you that we rode horses? It was actually like a medieval kind of battle, because guns don't work on demons. Only special types of weapons—mostly swords crafted with Clerad Metal."
"Yeah, I did learn about Clerad Metal in school," Shin said.
"So, back to where I was," he continued. "I charged in—comrades falling left and right—some of them even threw themselves into danger so I could reach the demon general. They believed in me… because of my skill. Because I had awakened Deathbringer."
He paused, then said quietly, "It might've been our last card."
"But when I finally got to the general… Deathbringer didn't activate. Nothing happened."
His voice dropped, bitter. "I froze. And in that moment, the
demon general grabbed me by the face."
And that was the first time I heard it.
A voice… whispering from the edge of death.
Kill him.