The Gloomy Saintess Obsessively Clings to Death

The saint in my arms flinched.

shortly after, a faint muttering reached my ears.

“Uh, um… Mr. Death.”

“Hm.”

As I slightly tilted my head down, I could see the saint trembling and fidgeting.

Her hands, which had been resting gently on my back, were now carefully pushing against my chest.

It was then that I realized what I had done.

I quickly released the saint and took a step back.

“I’m sorry, Saint. I shouldn’t have embraced you without permission….”

“Ah, no! It’s fine. It’s not a big deal… well, actually it kind of is, but…”

“…I truly apologize.”

“It’s not that, I didn’t mean it like that, it’s not that I disliked it! Umm… it was…”

Her voice gradually muffled and grew quieter, then suddenly the room was filled with a sound that seemed like stifled sobs.

“Uuuugh…!”

The saint buried her face in her hands and slumped down.

I could see her ears had turned bright red as she bowed her head.

I carefully touched her shoulder.

“Saint, are you alright?”

“Not fine… wait, I’m fine. Or no, I’m not. Uuuhh…!”

The saint shook her head while groaning, keeping her hands covering her face.

Please forgive me for saying this, but

her appearance was unbearably pitiful yet so incredibly adorable that I couldn’t help but let the corner of my lips curve upward.

I quickly covered my mouth with my hand so she wouldn’t see.

“I’m really sorry; I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“…Ah, no! I don’t want that!”

“…What?”

At that moment, my eyes met the suddenly raised gaze of the saint.

The saint’s face grew even redder.

Her pupils began darting around uncontrollably.

Flustered and fumbling, the saint groaned again, then covered her face with her hands.

“…Saint?”

“Um, well… everything…”

Her voice grew fainter and was lost in the sound of the wind.

As a result, I couldn’t hear anything after “everything,” no matter how hard I tried to focus.

‘…What did she say?’

While wondering what the word starting with “everything” could be,

I felt her glance at me from between her fingers.

Her eyes held a strange sense of anticipation.

But…

I had no idea what it was, so I scratched my cheek and said,

“Sorry, I didn’t hear anything after ‘well’.”

“…Uuuugh.”

After hesitating for a moment, the saint tightly clenched her hands and squeezed her eyes shut.

“…Never mind about that ‘never again’ thing… Mr. Death, your… embrace is… warm and nice, so…”

“…Hm.”

It was strange.

Though the door was wide open and the cold winter wind was blowing in unimpeded,

why was there a sudden heat rising all over my body?

‘Could this be what they call a cold?’

That thought seemed ridiculous, so I shook my head.

There’s no way God could get sick.

Still, something definitely felt off.

Looking at the kind of thoughts that would never normally cross my mind.

Additionally, my body felt not entirely my own, and I couldn’t calm myself down.

In frustration, I reached up to cover my heated face.

At that moment, I felt the opposite sleeve being tugged.

A small hand was carefully holding onto me.

The saint still sitting crouched on the ground looked up at me pitifully.

“…Are you going to cancel it?”

“Yes, y-yes?”

“…Could you not… cancel it?”

More wrinkles formed on the sleeve she was holding, as the saint tugged at it, urging me to answer.

“Huh? Mr. Death…”

Why was it?

For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to face her.

In the end, I turned my gaze outside the door and nodded as I answered.

“…I’ll cancel it then.”

“Um-hmm!”

The saint’s voice suddenly brightened.

Next, I felt her hands gently taking mine.

For a moment, I had the illusion of my heart skipping a beat, but I managed to maintain my composure.

“…Thank goodness. It’s absolutely not because Mr. Death dislikes me. It’s just that I remembered being completely covered in dust. I was worried about getting Mr. Death dirty…”

“Dust?”

At the saint’s words, I unconsciously looked at her again.

Because she had slumped down and covered her face,

there was even more dust clinging to her robes than before.

I sighed and helped the saint to her feet.

“What are you doing here? Your clothes will get dirty.”

“…Eh? Oh! If I stay like this and get dusty, I shouldn’t touch Mr. Death…”

“It’s fine. I’ve also just come from the pile of dust.”

Moreover, dust wouldn’t stick to a death god’s uniform even if it did, and it could be easily removed.

With that, I gave her arm a final pull to help her up. However, the saint’s eyes widened even more than before.

This look…

It seemed to be mixed with surprise and curiosity.

I brushed the dust off the saint’s clothes and asked.

“Do you have another question?”

“Hmm? Wait, what do you mean by coming from the pile of dust?”

“Oh, I just finished cleaning the kitchen.”

“Is that so?”

As I focused on shaking off the dust from the saint’s robe, a ‘puh-heh’ sound reached my ears.

The sudden laugh made me pause and look up at the saint.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Not really anything specific. Haha, so that’s why you kept suggesting we eat outside.”

“…Ah.”

I quickly turned my head.

The saint’s clear laughter echoed even louder.

The laughter ringing clearer in my ears, my face grew even redder.

“I’m sorry. I guess I’ve gotten used to that kind of life and wasn’t even aware of it.”

“No, no. Not that it’s because of that exactly, but…”

“Ahaha! Mr. Death, you’re really bad at lying!”

The saint laughed like a child.

Then, with a playful look, she approached me.

I lowered my head to avoid her gaze, but

the saint leaned slightly forward, tilting her head to look at me directly.

“Wow, Mr. Death’s face is turning red.”

“Saint’s face turned red earlier too.”

I tried to retaliate lightly,

but the saint only tilted her head teasingly and mocked me.

“Hmm, I don’t remember that…”

“Th-!”

Unable to help myself, I raised my head, and our eyes met.

The proximity of her face was strangely awkward.

I turned away while absentmindedly scratching my head and excused myself.

“There’s no way I can’t be clumsy. Any lies I attempt are bound to be exposed anyway, so I’ve seldom practiced them.”

“Puh-heh, well, Mr. Death gives it away with his whole body, after all.”

…I didn’t mean it that way.

What I meant was, since memories would reveal everything eventually, there would be no point in lying.

Perhaps because my shame as a death god was revealed, I felt increasingly disheartened.

As an entity tied to ‘death,’

I’m expected to always maintain a dignified and solemn demeanor in front of mortals, whether I’m a Grim Reaper or a death god.

Therefore, the true nature of most reapers or death gods doesn’t matter—most of them are adept at maintaining a poker face.

…Of course, I failed every time and relied on tools for help.

‘I should’ve worn the mask while collecting. But because of that report’s scary details…’

Regrets that would be useless now washed over me.

Looking back, it was problematic to face the saint without my mask.

I usually wore a mask to keep a serious atmosphere,

but this time I set out without preparation, causing everything to go awry from the start.

‘…And because of that, the solemnity of a death god is now long gone.’

Feeling drained, all my will to explain disappeared.

I simply decided to agree with the saint’s words.

“Yes. As a death god, my actions always give me away anyway.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad. Actually, I like that about Mr. Death.”

“…Yes?”

Taken aback by the sudden statement, I froze.

On the other hand, the saint smiled more warmly than ever and said,

“I like how Mr. Death is the same on the outside and the inside. That’s why I can trust and rely on Mr. Death without a shadow of doubt.”

“Um…”

“And how Mr. Death, while knowing he can’t lie, still tries his best to deflect things for my sake—because it means how much Mr. Death cares about me.”

The continuous compliments made me increasingly unsure of what to do with myself.

Even someone who gets flustered easily and blushes at little things

was now speaking freely and confidently without hesitation.

Though it was difficult to make eye contact, her voice continued.

“Or is it because of Mr. Death’s kindness? After all, you didn’t hesitate to offer food to a complete stranger the first time we met.”

“…While I appreciate your words, aren’t you usually shy or something right now?”

“Hmm? Why? I’m just stating facts. …Is that strange?”

The saint tilted her head and stared at me blankly.

There was no sign of her recognizing any problem with her behavior, and the pure expression on her face left me without the energy to argue back.

In the end, I briefly responded and slightly bowed my head.

“…No. Thank you for the compliments.”

“Uh-huh. I’m also grateful in many ways, Mr. Death.”

The saint smiled brightly again.

It was warmly radiant in a way that felt strangely touching.

The air in the room seemed to soften, almost as if reality shifted to match her warmth.

Why was it?

The more I looked, the more strange sensations welled within me, confusing my feelings.

‘It’s simply impossible.’

I urgently opened up the Pocket Dimension and retrieved a disposable mask from a forgotten corner. Then I placed it on the saint.

The saint looked up at me with wide eyes.

“Uh? Why all of a sudden?”

“…Th-that is… dust might get in while cleaning. You were coughing earlier, remember?”

Avoiding her eyes, I hastily made up the excuse.

Surprisingly, since it was grounded in reality, it sounded more natural than before.

Thankfully, the saint nodded in understanding and readily accepted it.

“Thank you, Mr. Death.”

“Not at all… Ah, are you not hungry yet? Should we have dinner before I start cleaning?”

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Since I ate that bread, I’m not hungry at all.”

It seems food made by goddesses provides a long-lasting feeling of fullness.

If that’s the case, we could prepare a meal after cleaning is done then.

I retrieved my mask from the Pocket Dimension and put it on.

The sensation and efficiency were on a completely different level from human-made masks.

It was a tool specially crafted for me by Hephaestus.

The only downside was that it could only be used by me, meaning I couldn’t offer it to the saint.

“Where would you like to start with the cleaning, Saint?”

“Hmm, I’ll finish clearing the cobwebs first. Mr. Death, you could… eek?!”

When the saint turned around, she gasped and fell back on her behind.

Her expression was filled with sheer fright.

‘What’s behind her?’

Following her pointed direction, my instincts kicked in, and I turned around immediately.

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