It had been a week since Spirit had been confronted by Stein in the hospital and he had been on guard ever since, so as not to run into him again. He had run away from Stein in tears and had cried himself to sleep. Seeing him was like getting a slap in the face, a painful reminder of the past. Even now, Spirit sat on the floor in the death room, bawling.
“That’s enough!” Death chopped his head.
“Ah!” Sprit lay on the ground, his head pounding and tears still rolling down his cheeks.
“Quit your whining! I don’t want my scythe crying in front of the teachers.”
“Huh?” Spirit looked...
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