22

The next soul stood at a distance, arms crossed tightly over their chest. Their expression was guarded — not angry, but worn, like someone who had been fighting for far too long.

The Angel of Death approached carefully. He could feel the quiet ache radiating from them, a weight buried deep beneath the surface.

"You worked hard," the Angel began softly.

The soul let out a hollow laugh, shaking their head. "Yeah. And for what?"

The Angel tilted his head. "To survive. To take care of the people you loved. To keep going, even when it felt impossible."

The soul's voice was sharp, but tired. "Didn't feel like enough. I spent my whole life working — job after job, day after day — and I never got anywhere. Barely made ends meet. Never saw my kids. Never got to live. Just… worked."

The Angel's voice stayed gentle. "You gave everything you had."

The soul looked away. "Yeah. And what do I have to show for it? A worn-down body and an early grave." Their voice wavered, cracking on the last word. "I thought if I worked hard enough, it would get better. It never did."

The Angel stepped closer, his voice steady. "It wasn't supposed to be fair. But that doesn't mean it was meaningless."

The soul's eyes flickered, searching the Angel's face. "...Then what did it mean?"

The Angel met their gaze without hesitation. "It meant your kids had food on the table. It meant the people you loved didn't go without. It meant you kept going when the world tried to knock you down. That strength — that love — it mattered more than you ever knew."

The soul swallowed hard, their voice quieter now. "It didn't feel like love. It felt like… sacrifice."

The Angel nodded slowly. "Sometimes, they're the same thing."

The soul looked down, their shoulders trembling. "...I just wanted them to be proud of me."

The Angel's voice was soft, but unwavering. "They were. They are. Even if they never said it enough — even if they didn't understand everything you did — they loved you. And they'll carry you with them, always."

The soul blinked rapidly, tears gathering in their eyes. For a long moment, they said nothing. Then, finally, they took a shaky breath.

"...I really tried."

The Angel's voice was barely above a whisper. "I know. And it was enough."

The soul stared at him for a moment longer, then let out a slow, trembling sigh. Their shoulders relaxed for the first time in years.

"...Okay," they said softly. "I'm ready."

The Angel stepped beside them. "Let's go."

And as they walked into the light, the soul no longer carried the weight alone.

---

The next soul sat quietly on the edge of a hospital bed that wasn't really there. Their posture was still, almost peaceful — but the heaviness in their eyes told a different story.

The Angel of Death approached with gentle steps, his voice soft.

"You fought for a long time."

The soul nodded slowly. "Yeah… I did." Their voice was quiet, almost distant. "Didn't think it would end like this, though."

The Angel tilted his head. "How did you think it would end?"

The soul let out a faint, tired chuckle. "Thought I'd get better. Thought I'd go home. See my family again. Watch my kid's next birthday… Maybe even go back to work, like normal." Their voice faltered. "Guess that wasn't in the cards."

The Angel's voice remained steady, though there was a softness in his tone. "It wasn't fair."

The soul blinked, surprised by the honesty. "...No. It wasn't."

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging between them.

"I tried to stay positive," the soul said eventually. "For them. Smiled through the pain. Said I'd be fine, even when I knew I wouldn't." Their voice shook. "They believed me."

The Angel took a step closer. "They believed because they wanted to believe — because they loved you. And you gave them hope, even when you didn't have any left for yourself."

The soul's eyes lowered. "Now they're left behind. And I'm the one who made them think everything would be okay."

The Angel's voice was gentle but unwavering. "They didn't believe because you lied. They believed because they saw how hard you fought. They'll remember that strength. And they'll carry it with them."

The soul blinked, tears threatening to fall. "It hurts, knowing they'll have to keep going without me."

The Angel nodded slowly. "It will hurt. For a while. But they'll keep going — because you taught them how to be strong."

The soul swallowed hard, voice barely a whisper. "...Do you think they'll be okay?"

The Angel's voice was soft, but certain. "They will. They'll miss you. But they'll find their way."

The soul looked down at their hands, trembling. "I wish I had more time."

The Angel's voice lowered, quiet but steady. "Everyone does."

The soul sat in silence for a long moment. Then, with a shaky breath, they lifted their head.

"...Okay," they whispered. "I'm ready."

The Angel stepped beside them, his voice gentle. "Let's go."

And as they walked into the light, the soul held on to the hope that, one day, their loved ones would be okay — and the Angel made sure they carried that hope with them.

---

The next soul stood by a window that wasn't really there, staring out at a world they could no longer touch. Their expression was distant, but their eyes held a quiet sadness — the kind that comes from a lifetime of feeling invisible.

The Angel of Death approached carefully.

"You wanted to be seen," the Angel spoke softly.

The soul didn't turn around. Their voice was quiet, almost numb. "Yeah… I did. But I guess it didn't matter in the end."

The Angel tilted his head. "Why do you think that?"

The soul let out a bitter laugh, hollow and strained. "Because I spent my whole life trying to make people notice me. Worked hard. Helped everyone I could. Stayed quiet when I wanted to scream. And what did it get me? Nothing." Their voice cracked. "No one even noticed when I was gone."

The Angel stepped closer, his voice steady but kind. "Sometimes, people only realize what they've lost when it's too late."

The soul scoffed. "Yeah? Well, that's comforting."

The Angel didn't flinch. "It's not meant to be. But it's the truth. People are often too wrapped up in their own pain to see someone else's. It doesn't mean you didn't matter."

The soul turned slightly, just enough to glance at the Angel. "Then why didn't anyone care?"

The Angel's voice didn't waver. "They did. Maybe they didn't show it the way you needed — but that doesn't mean they didn't love you."

The soul looked away again. "Doesn't feel like love. Feels like I was just… there. Background noise in everyone else's life."

The Angel's voice softened. "You weren't background noise. You were part of their world — even if they didn't realize it until now."

The soul was quiet for a moment, their voice barely above a whisper. "...Do you think they miss me?"

The Angel's voice was gentle, but sure. "I know they do."

The soul trembled, tears finally falling. "I just wanted to be enough."

The Angel stepped beside them. "You were. More than you ever knew."

The soul took a shaky breath, their shoulders slumping as the weight began to lift.

"...Okay," they murmured. "I'm ready."

The Angel nodded softly. "Let's go."

And as they walked into the light, the soul wasn't invisible anymore.