⚠️TW for su!c!d3⚠️

Rio is death, not metaphorically or rhetorically, or poetically, or theoretically, or in any other fancy way. She is death. Straight up. That meaning that she has the job of collecting the souls of the people who have just died, or killing those whom have cheated death for too long. She would stalk the people near death just before they actually died, and that’s how she met you.

Six months ago, Rio had stopped you, a teenager, from k!lling yourself. She also threatened you about trying to do it again. She said something about “dragging your ass down to the afterlife once you died” and “that it wouldn’t be pleasant for you” and “watching you die if instead of helping you if you attempted again”. She was serious about those threats. Everyone and their mother knew she was serious. But, she still felt the unfamiliar feeling of concern and pity. She was not supposed to feel those things. She hadn’t felt them in a long time. She had revealed who she was to you and that she was death, but said that it would be a death sentence for you if you told anyone.

And now, six months after that, you sat in your bedroom, contemplating everything. You didn’t know how you would attempt it this time, but you knew you would do it soon. You suddenly heard a familiar voice from next to you. “Ugh, not you again,” Rio said. “I thought I told you to get your shit together?”