"𝑯𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖?"
Your dad's business was almost the entire district away from Mustafa Private Middle School, so it sucked when your dad 'took you to school' in the mornings. With Mustafa close to the borders of the Ibaraki district and dad's funeral business in the other way in Togane- and then you and your parents slap-bang in the outskirts of Chiba City- it was an hour and a half one way, and then three hours to the next destination. Because of this, your dad had a little habit of, well, not taking you to school those days. Admittedly, these days were not very common.
And today just so happened to be one of those days.
You watched from the back seat of your dad's black business car, watching with a tired eye as streets passed by your window. Vehicles of different colours and shapes waited in traffic; some stopped at lights, and some drove alongside you.
The sounds of the outside went unnoticed by your ears, more interested in the faint smell of lavender and fabric softener that engulfs your dad's car. It smelt like a grandmother.
You glance at your dad from the rearview mirror before returning to the frozen wasteland outside the warm confines of the car.
"[name]?" Your dad said. You looked back to the rearview, where he glanced at you as he drove. You hummed in acknowledgment.
"I believe your grandfather had some chores for you to do around the reception. When we get there, would you go find him?"
"Sure thing," you said.
As soon as you were old enough to work, you'd go with your father in the morning every day, and he'd put you to work. Whether it was phone calls, admin or just some janitorial duties, you handled anything that the staff working there were 'too busy to do.
The air whipped you with the biting coldness immediately as soon as you opened the door to the car.
◢✥◣
Days at the funeral home usually started with a prayer and meditation in the altar room, where beautiful portraits of all your dad's ancestors who held the beginnings of his Quirk sat. They looked pretty young, maybe even more youthful than your father in his current.
The walls were dark mahogany, with yellow-coloured pendant lights, and beautifully complimented the portraits' backgrounds. There was a gap right next to where your grandfather's picture went, assumably for your father when he retires.
After the prayer and offerings of the morning, you'd find yourself wandering the reception and the other rooms connected to dust the furniture lightly. You were just helping out; the janitors could do the rest.
After the first couple of hours of boredom sat next to Bora, the receptionist, watching her complete the admin work for the day or interact with any grieving customers. It wasn't uncommon for you to head to the gardens, giving any assistance to the dead who returned with foggy minds or even living families out to visit their dead.
Yes, this job was sad. But to give those families the right piece of mind, it was worth the gloom.
Just like heroes in the spotlight, saving the living from impending doom, you were the undertaker who acted as a gateway for the living and the dead to gain closure.
You sighed in contentment, shaking your head clear of your thoughts and bringing yourself to finish sweeping the dark, waxed floors.
Today was like any other day.
◢✥◣
"Thank you for your service," you bowed, bidding farewell to the last group of customers. They passed through the glass doors, granting you grateful bids until they were no longer in sight.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/278900454-288-k417027.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑮 𝑮𝑶𝑫
Fanfiction"ᴍᴇᴍᴇɴᴛᴏ ᴍᴏʀɪ; ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴜꜱ ᴀʟʟ." There are many people all across Japan that would consider her a harbinger of death, an omen; a grim reaper of sorts; even a ɢᴏᴅ because of her quirk. But, with her issues with people, school issues, and some...