Being Dead Sucks (OumaSai/SaiOuma) -Being Edited-

14

hi so last chapter was bad but here have another one that took me like a fucking week to post because im lazy and slow hahA-

"Well, think back to when you were.... well, you know."

"Not dead?"

"Y-yeah. Was there anyone that, when you were around them, made you feel... complete, I guess? I don't really know how this soulmate stuff works."

I give an irritated huff and give an exaggerated roll of my eyes. Ever since that witch girl came over, Emo Boy has been questioning me nonstop. To be perfectly honest, I think it's kind of sweet that he's trying to help, but it's getting seriously annoying. I don't know any more than he does about what's going on. I didn't really understand anything she told me. 

I mean, how am I supposed to just process that bombshell? My death wasn't actually a death, per se, whichi is something I didn't know was possible. I mean, how do you... half-die? And to pull me back over to the living I need to find the soulmate I didn't know existed and do some weird satanic ritual that I'm putting my money on having some involvement with chicken blood. Before this, I didn't even believe in all that bullshit.

"I dunno. Can I have ramen?" I reply. Some noodles sound pretty good right about now. He's the one to sigh in frustration this time, and he shoots me a look.

"Kokichi, you have to try and think back. I just want to help you."

"And I just want ramen, but neither of us are getting what we want, now are we?" I retaliate. I honestly just don't want to talk about it anymore. I feel like he's trying to help me, and I'm letting him down by not knowing. 

"Can't you make yourself ramen?" He asks.

"I can't, cuz I twisted my ankle, and walking on it huuuuuuurts. Take care of me, Shuichiiiiiiiii." I whine, drawing out certain words in a very obnoxious fashion.

"That's a lie, right?"

"Are you doubting me? Bullying the injured, huh Shuichi? That's low. Lower than low. You'd be the limbo champion, you're so low." I put on a pretty good act, but he still doesn't look all the way convinced. 

He snorts. "Oh, really? When did you twist your ankle?"

"Earlier."

He seems to catch on that I'm trying to change the subject. "Look, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, but I'm just doing my best." I feel sort of guilty for shooting down his attempts to help me out. Maybe that was his intention. I guess maybe it wouldn't hurt to try a little harder.

 I think back on it, scouring my brain as hard as I can. There were a select handful of people I interacted with throughout my sad and short life, and only a few of them were voluntary. None of them match the description he gave me.

 My friends made me happy, of course, and were sort of all I really had. But that empty feeling I never gave any attention to was always there. Although I never really give my true feelings towards others very much thought when possible, because if I do, I know I'll end up overthinking it and things will get out of hand. But anyways, the short answer is no.

I shake my head. "Well, about the whole feeling complete thing, no one comes to mind. I don't believe it's someone I've met before. Besides, I think if it were, I wouldn't be here right now, right? I would have just, you know, died. Like, all the way." I think that girl said something along the lines of that.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, that was a pretty obvious oversight on my part..." He looked genuinely apologetic. 

"Yeah, it was pretty dumb. But that's okay. We'll figure it out." I reply. He sighs.