A Deal is a Deal

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

Now, Angelo, that’s no way to respond when a woman invites you for tea. Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners? Even if she hadn’t, I would have expected you to pick up a thing or two from Domenica, or Chiara. Come, join me. The tea will get cold if you stand there much longer.

“I may not know manners, but I do know math. You’re early. I still have sixty years left and it’s not even the anniversary yet. What are you doing here?”

Is it so wrong to be curious about what you’re up to these days? Maybe I like seeing what adventures our contract has sent you on. Kanagawa is certainly beautiful this time of year, isn’t it? Not blistering, but just warm enough to forgo a jacket. Unfortunately, just a bit too late to see the cherry blossoms. Oh well. Perhaps another time. You have plenty of it, so I’m sure the chance will come.

“Silosia.”

I like halves. It’s the sweet spot, you know? Where you have just as much to look back on as you do to look forward to. Sixty years gone, sixty years to come. At least, unless you find it before your deadline.

“And yet the deals you make are unfair and unequal.”

Unequal, you say? It’s not so much equality as it is equity. You are mortal. I am immortal. Your kind deal in material exchanges, where most items have no value or purpose to mine. If anything, this has been more of a gain to you. I’ve promised you a lifetime and longer, where your aging stops until your deadline, and where you get to explore so many corners of the world in your search. All I asked for is one necklace of immeasurable power hidden in the mortal world, because I cannot directly take it. And that’s it! It’s not so difficult, and you have plenty of time. Small world, and all. Bring it to me, and you get to live the rest of your life however you wish with no negative consequences.

“But my success or failure doesn’t matter. You get something either way, be it the artifact or my soul.”

You have lived long past when you were meant to die, so in a way, so do you. I think that’s quite a fair deal, all things considered. A necklace does not equal a soul’s value by any measure, magic or no, but there is nothing more I can claim from you that comes close to it, so it will have to do.

“How thoughtful. Can I ask you something?”

Always.

“Why me? You could have picked any other desperate soul to barter with. Why choose mine?”

Well, if you must know, it was because of your heart.

“My what?”

Your heart. Not your physical heart, of course, but rather the heart that your kind uses as a metaphor for love.

“I’ve done nothing but bring pain everywhere I go. I’m fairly certain many people would call me heartless.”

Ah, but that’s not true, is it? Not entirely, of course. See, your problem isn’t that you sow pain and suffering out of hatred, but rather because you care too much and want to do the right thing so badly that it has unmade you. Isn’t that peculiar? Love, I will never understand what about it is so appealing to you mortals. Constantly chasing after something so fickle, changing yourself to appeal to a concept that is so painfully subjective, and for what? A sense of belonging? Satisfaction? Societal pressure? Companionship? Is it not enough to simply exist alongside a person? Are mortals so daunted by loneliness or the prospect of having to constantly forge new connections that they would rather bind themselves to one single person their whole lives, just to say they have someone? Quite frankly, as a gambler myself, I cannot fathom why people bother with the odds. It seems wasteful, pouring an emotion they cannot even describe into a relationship with someone who could very easily hurt them. And even at the end, no matter how it ends, it hurts you. What could possibly be worth that much pain?

“Oh, Silosia, I would never expect you to understand. After all, if love is a concept that is so below a Reaper such as you, then I pity you. You have never felt what it’s like to be wanted—no, needed—by someone else. You’ve never known kindness, nor joy or comfort or selflessness. And just as well, you’ve never known the warmth of bringing those same feelings to someone else.”

So that’s why you do it, then? You love someone for the pleasure of something that will inevitably end in agony?

“Why does anyone do anything? Fire burns those who get careless, but it is still warm and light for those who know better and put in the effort to maintain it, and for those who do not see it as an item of danger and pain.”

You speak so highly of love for someone who has only ever been burned by it.

“You speak so poorly of it for someone who will only ever know the cold and dark.”

Touché. But if love is as pleasant an emotion as you claim it is, then I find it peculiar that it has driven you from beyond where it is safe and warm and into the burning blaze. Why don’t you fear it any longer? Should you crawl your way out of this inferno, why do you wish to remain close rather than run and take shelter in the darkness?

“What difference does it make to you? You still made the deal with me.”

Curiosity, I suppose. Just indulge me, will you?

“I don’t know how long you’ve watched me, or how long you’ve waited for me to reach a point where I was desperate enough to accept your proposal, but fine. With my mother, I thought that buying her a new place across town would make her happier, and it would keep her away from our old landlord. He was horrible to her, sure, but I didn’t think he would go after her and kill her when we left. When Francesco tried to force Chiara to marry him, I went and spoke with him to try and convince him to change his mind. She’s always wanted to be in a convent, and what kind of friend would I have been if I didn’t try to help her? He was drunk and he got mad, and I shouldn’t have expected any less from him, so of course he lashed out. But his death wasn’t my fault. I left, he was still alive. The next morning, I find out the house burned down with him inside. Probably passed out and knocked a candle over on his way down, if I had to guess. But Chiara thought I killed him. She didn’t turn me in, but she threatened to report me if I ever spoke to her again. Sometimes I still wonder how she’s doing, if she’s still alive. How convent life treated her. If that’s what she ended up doing in the end. Maybe I could now, if she’s still alive, but she’d be eighty-four by this point, so… no, actually. That wouldn’t go well at all, thinking about it now. I haven’t aged at all in sixty years, so seeing me would probably give her a heart attack.”

I started keeping an eye on you shortly after that incident, so I know a bit about Domenica. But I’d like to hear your interpretation of the events.

“You asked why I don’t run away from the fire. The thing is, I tried to. I started working as Domenica’s personal tailor shortly before my mother died. It was the reason I was even able to afford getting her a new place. It was strictly professional up until a few months before Francesco’s death. Then she started asking me about my day or my plans for the evening or weekend, or she’d start sharing the latest gossip with me, or… I don’t know. At some point I noticed that she was trying to get closer to me, to encourage me to open up to her more, and that… that scared me, honestly. So I tried to stay closed off. I would have quit, if not for the fact that it paid really well. The problem was that no matter how hard I tried not to, I still ended up caring about her. So I was willing to open up a bit more, and I figured, ‘Why not,’ you know? ‘Maybe this time will be different.’ I thought she just wanted to be friends, but turns out she wanted to be more than that, and I did care for her, just not like that. And I wasn’t ready for something like that. Then she started screaming at me about leading her on and sending mixed signals. I’m lucky to have not lost my job that day, and I really thought I was going to, but she still kept me around.”

And yet you left her staff just three weeks after that incident.

“Of course I did. It was awkward at that point. She was silent most of the time, barely looked at me, was a bit more difficult than usual during fittings and measurements, but I think the worst part is that aside from that, she was still polite to me when she had to speak. Or maybe it was just keeping up appearances to maintain her family name. Not sure, and I can’t say it matters to me now. But still… I wasn’t opposed to a relationship later down the line. I just wasn’t ready, but I didn’t get a chance to tell her that.”

Interesting.

“So with our deal, I just thought, you know, that maybe I could have a second chance. If not in that lifetime with her, then in another with someone else, but all I really want is just a chance to love someone without hurting them. I want my actions to start with good intentions and end with good results.”

What a fascinating way of looking at things. Foolish, certainly, but fascinating, nonetheless.

“You’ve been alive for how long now? And no one has ever explained it to you? Come to think of it, are you… alive? Is that the right word? I don’t think I’ve ever asked.”

I exist. Life and death are concepts that apply only to those in temporary, corporeal forms. But it has, in fact, been explained to me. Each time is different, and I find it a wonderfully insightful conversation, hearing others describe something that I will never experience. Reapers have no use for human emotions. Meddlesome things, they are.

“I wouldn’t say that. There are a few things that you have in common with us humans.”

Such as…?

“Hunger for power, for one. Otherwise this contract wouldn’t have ever been made. Curiosity is another, because no matter how long you’ve walked the earth, be it five years or eighty-three or seven hundred, there are always things to learn. Even you said it yourself, once. You’re not omnipresent, and you sure as hell aren’t omnipotent.”

Hm.

“Now it’s your turn to indulge me. You’ve only ever shown up on the anniversary of our contract for the last sixty years. You say you love halves and having an equal amount to look back on and look forward to, yet that milestone happened a few months ago. To my knowledge, there is nothing special about today, and you never cared to follow up about my travels or ask about my motives until now. You sure as hell didn’t care when I agreed to your deal, at least. I don’t believe that’s changed.”

Believe whatever you’d like. It won’t change what is, what has been, and what will be. But in any case, this was a lovely chat we’ve had. I’d love to do this again sometime, though I’m not sure how frequently I’ll be able to, what with things deteriorating as they are in my realm, and I have other contracts to see to, of course—

“What do you mean by deteriorating? What’s going on?”

That is what I’ve been meaning to tell you. It’s nothing more than the same old song and dance of most of history across nearly every civilization. Someone ascends to power. Corruption slowly trickles in until the leakage is so obvious that people rally for change. This person in power does not wish to embrace this change because it involves them relinquishing even a small fragment of their wealth or power. Then violence becomes near inevitable. You complain about unfair deals, and yet you’re fortunate enough to have never met our king. I suppose you were right, then, about this commonality between us.

“Is that why you want this necklace? What does it even do?”

It will amplify my powers and aid me in overpowering my own rivals. The tension amongst my people has nothing to do with it. I want the necklace purely for selfish reasons.

“Like what? Aside from your rivalries, that is.”

They’re of no concern to you. All you need to worry about is finding it, unless you want to offer up your soul and call it quits now.

“I think I’ll pass. But what would that mean for our deal?”

For now? Absolutely nothing at all, aside from my visits being less frequent. Our terms still exist as is. But depending on how this develops, I cannot be certain it will remain that way. Why? Will you miss me?

“Not in the slightest.”

Then I suppose I will take my leave, then. This has been truly enlightening. It’s not often I walk away from a conversation with a mortal and find myself with much to think about. Oh, and Angelo?

“Yes?”

You know how to find me when the time comes. I trust you won’t disappoint me, on your head be it.