"How brave! Certainly you must have corrected such blasphemous behavior, God of Death?" Swinging his head 'no,' Azrail took a sip of his tea, his eyelids closed as the moonlight poured in richly. "The God of Life and I are both on equal grounds regarding sovereignty—wishing for discord between us is like pleasing for the elimination of all. However, none of this matters now as he had atoned for such informal etiquette by lavishing upon the humans a Golden Child." Quickly peering back up at Azrail, Haruki lay a hand over his mouth as his eyes narrowed sharply. "You realize what you have done, God of Death? To grant such a gift so soon? And such a precious one at that—if the God of Life were to create a single mistake whilst in power do you know what that could do to the Golden Child?" Showing Azrail a chiding face Haruki quietly 'tsked' and gazed back down onto his filled teacup, drawing it up to his lips as he took a slow sip.

"Well, whatever you do, be careful. I have barely become comfortable with you and I would loathe for such a relation to go to waste so soon." Waving his hand in reassurance, Azrail gazed into Haruki's emerald green eyes, both of them gawking closely into one another as if they were seeking for something secretive. "I will not leave so soon, Haruki—besides, getting purged of a god without their blessing is purely fruitless, nevertheless disrespectful. You will be indulged in my existence for many more eons to come, I anticipate." Burying his smile behind his expanded sleeve, Haruki's green eyes blazed beautifully along with the light that was transmitting off from his body. "To think, I, the God of Day, and you, the God of Death, have gotten along so strikingly in such few hours. One must look at this scene and only wonder: "Has hell finally frozen over as the prophets had believed?". Rather unexpected, but clearly achievable." Nodding his head in agreement, the two shared a few minutes of silence as the both of them savored their tea, their moods relaxed and composed as they reveled in each other's presence.

Surrendering himself in his thoughts, Haruki thought of Azrail's unique image as he found it rather fitting for a God of Death. The melancholy, golden somber eyes that shine ever-so perilously; and the raven-black hair that gleams as brilliantly as the Aikat Realm does—which meant complete and utter darkness. Pale skin—as pale as the dead. Oh, what more could someone have in their frontal appearance to mirror the exact personification of death? Feeling slight sympathy for such a bleak but mighty man, Haruki only thought of one thing: that the God of Death had no companions or anyone to chat with once in a while. Truly pitiful.

Detecting the woeful stare of Haruki, Azrail inclined his head to the side, puzzled by the unusual shift of mood that Haruki was presently emanating. "Is something the matter? Has the tea gotten too cold?" Asking these things with concern interwoven in his tone, Azrail subtly eased once seeing the God of Day snap out of his thoughts, his emerald green eyes flashing up to his own as the same sorry look reappeared. "You're a respectable man, God of Death." Picking up the candid words that Haruki had just spoken, Azrail raised a brow, but offered him a head bow in thankfulness. "I appreciate such a kind compliment, but please—call me Azrail. I don't firmly fancy such long and time-consuming titles, so if you don't mind." Shaking his head, Haruki retorted: "I don't mind such a thing, Azrail—if such a rule is to be put in place, please, call me Haruki. Haru is fine, too." Seeing this unforeseen openness as a positive sign, Azrail gave Haruki one of his trademark smiles; a minor, but yet gracious and soothing smile that was like fresh flowers being installed inside of a hospital that was crammed with wretched days on end. "Thank you, Haru-san."

Stupefied by his stunning smile, Haruki's pale cheeks flushed red, his emerald green eyes swelling in wonderment as he stared at the scene in front of him. No longer did he see Azrail's pale skin as sick and deathly, but he now saw it as pleasant and healthy as it reminded him of virgin snow. It was smooth and appeared tender to the touch—like a feather dropping on top of a pile of fresh flower petals. The once stern and threatening golden eyes are now lively and steady—like an untouched pond twinkling under the intensity of the morning sun. But his smile stunned him the most; it was one of the most outstanding smiles he had the gratification of witnessing. No, it was the greatest smile he had ever seen. So lively and affectionate, with his soft bubblegum-colored lips curving up into a modest smile, making Azrail appear even prettier. "Cute", was an expression Haruki thought he would never express in his thoughts until today. Truly, why was he—such an undeserving creature—assigned to become the God of Day whilst here was this man, the ideal personification of a blazing ball of fire? Azrail shined—not colorful and intense like he—but like a star. Gracious and tempting, guiding, always giving hope to the bleakest of places.

At that moment, his vacant heart skipped a beat. His stomach felt like it was currently experiencing a great and powerful tsunami as a feeling that he had never felt before roiled around inside of him, overcoming his senses as everything he could think of was of him—Azrail. Now that he thought about it, such a name wasn't befitting of such a refined and fascinating creature. He needed something that truly defined him, something that would bring justice to his delicate face and characteristics.

"Akemi."

"Did I miss something?"

"Is it alright if I nickname you: "Akemi"?"

Looking at the concentrated male in confusion, Azrail just shrugged his shoulders, nodding his head 'yes'. "I see there is no reason why you can't, so I don't mind. Though, I wonder; what made you think of something like that? A nickname, I mean." Peering down at the liquid that stayed placid inside the teacup a sheepish smile was tucked away behind his stretched sleeve as he countered: "If we are to be on goodwill terms I recommend we get closer, and so I thought, what better way than to become like childhood friends?" Though this made little sense to Azrail, he could not care less how Haruki addressed him. Besides, it was only fair if Haruki could choose to call him something special if he were to call him "Haru-san".

"Very well, Haru-san. Though I suspect you must get going now; it is getting late." Glancing over towards the open scenery in reflex, Haruki sweat dropped in embarrassment, berating himself for overlooking that he was no longer on Earth, but in the World of Gods—more precisely, in the God of Death's Domain. "I say that I had spent here more time than recommended, and I do have to ready Earth for the approaching daytime, so I best be on my way." Rising from his cloud-seat, Haruki observed as Azrail rose as well, his long raven-black hair tumbling down from his shoulders, making it seem as if it was limited liquid instead of hair. "Well, I will see you off then, if you don't mind." Shaking his head, Haruki gave him a gentle smile. "Of course, I don't mind, Akemi—you can do whatever you want." Deciding not to question the God of Day's wording Azrail merely walked in front of him as he lead him out of the room and down the halls, to the stairs, and out into the open garden that awaited them as the towering gates stood in front of them with the bridge behind it, gleaming with luster.

Looking back at the waiting Azrail, Haruki gave him a tender smile, his voice sweet as he spoke. "I very much relished in the time that we spent together, Akemi, and I wish we have many more like these in the future. Here," With a snap of his fingers, a dazzling light made Azrail look away as an illuminating umbrella emerged in Haruki's hand. With the light finally eclipsing down just a tad, Azrail finally looked back to observe the unique item given to Haruki by the late God of Day. With astonished eyes Azrail watched as Haruki opened up a wagasa—a Japanese umbrella—its glittering golden color glowing cleverly like an overly lit fire as an illustration of the sun popped up imprinted on the umbrella, fluttering around as its curved outstretched lines veered left and right. Long strands of transparent silk and gold-dipped diamonds dangled from on top of the umbrella down towards the ends of Haruki's kneecaps as it swayed gently, a pleasant chiming sound being produced. Noticing the pleased expression on Azrail, Haruki's calm face turned honored as he twirled it around in front of Azrail, showing off his pride and amusement.

"Charming, isn't it? I was one of the first to receive my title, and as far as I have seen, I received one of the most fascinating items contrasted to the other freshly anointed gods. I call him: Chiasa—it means one thousand mornings. Not much consideration did I put into this process, but I thought of it as a way of encouraging me to put more care into something with a name." Nodding his head in understanding, Azrail also summoned his staff as it made a 'clunk' sound against the grovel beneath his feet. "I suppose we are to make a Blessed Link between the two of us?" Chuckling at Azrail's quick wittiness, Haruki nodded his head. "Think of it as making a peace treaty."

Deciding not to question it any further, Azrail repeated Haruki's actions as both of them used their item in a way in which it can be activated. For Azrail, all he had to do was to strike the end of the staff on the ground; but for Haruki, he had to inject some of his power into the umbrella for it to glow and shine with power. So, now the two of their items were glowing with splendor as a white streak of light was connected between them two before disappearing. Putting away his staff, Azrail gave a last farewell as Haruki vanished from sight.

Emerging inside his luxurious room, Hikaru bolted on top of his bed, thrusting his face into his pillow as he tackled to temper down the wild heat that circulated throughout his face. With his stomach thumping and tumbling, Haruki felt as if he had just gotten off a roller coaster ride. He had barely met the God of Death and he had already caught feelings for the man! Haruki felt repentant of himself—falling in love with another god. It wasn't against the rules—even if it was it could still be overlooked if it was for a god, but it was the God of Death out of everyone who somehow captured his heart. Haruki was confused if I even was 'love'. He had never truly felt love before, so how could he know if it was truly the emotion that was driving him over the edge?

Now inside his office, Hikaru tried to drive his attention over to his work, only for him to groan in gloom as he found he couldn't concentrate at the least. Ever since he left the God of Death's domain, Azrail was all he could think about! Azrail occupied his mind in such an annoying way that it made him punch the wall next to him—yet it was delightful. He knew he despised the way Azrail infested his mind, yet he loved the fact that he was thinking of Azrail. This way the face and smile of the god never left his memory—well, it isn't like he could ever forget such things. Such a quick-witted and sharp-tongued man. Oh! It gave him chills.

"Stop!" Striking his fist against the wall once again, Haruki watched as the wall mended itself, though didn't truly care as he only thought of one thing, and that was a way of guessing out if he was truly in love. So, there he sat in his dining room, his personal servant kowtowing in front of him as a letter was handed over to the god. Snatching the parchment paper, Haruki opened it and read what was written inside: "The Deity of Love has accepted your request to meet him."

What better way to know if you were truly in love than to ask the giver of love himself?

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ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ!

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