She looked away, her face a mixture of confusion and embarrassment.
"The market was soon flooded with games that allowed the player to be with
his little sister. Word got around the bulletin boards that Love Rhombus
did not include such an ending. The game was unpopular. Largely pirated.
Largely irretrievably deleted. Even Amano forgot about it in the deluge of
sister-fuck games he himself feverishly shat out after the failure of Rhombus."
"Are you saying I'm not ... not real?"
"You are imaginary. So when it is no longer possible for you to exist in
anyone's imagination, when everyone has forgotten you, you will disappear. You
will die."
"I don't believe –"
"Look at yourself. Have you seen your own body?"

She looked down and saw only white.

Just a head. Just a head and fading.

The man looked into the distance and narrowed his eyes in concentration, as if
focusing on someone far away. He broke it off momentarily to report.
"Fifteen minutes ago a pathetic young man in America just played the last
digital copy of Love Rhombus. All the hard copies have been trashed or
have decayed. Upon completing it he realised he could
not have you and uninstalled it in disgust."
"Oh."
"His memory of you and the game is the last trace of you and your world in
reality. Everyone else has forgotten you. He has begun to. This process
typically takes anywhere between –"
He concentrated again.
"His Rozen Maiden dollsex torrent has completed and he is now masturbating as
if he is trying to start a fire. You do not have long."

She let his words lap up against her, seemingly totally content as she gazed
headlong into the white.
"Your brother ... doesn't concern you anymore?" he asked.
"I have the feeling something is supposed to ..."
"Your personality. It's fading, isn't it. They didn't give you much to
lose, I guess."
"Ne, Death-san ..."
"What."
"Are you an idea too?"
"Yes."
"So will you ... someday ..."
"No-one ever forgets me. I'm always here."
"Ah."
"That's why sometimes I like to go and comfort other ideas before they die.
Sort of like the real Death does with people. No shame in being forgotten, none
at all. We've had a lot of girls like you disappear lately."
"Like me?"
"Yes, from games and such. Just hordes and hordes of them, shy, doting
little girls, with their own little gimmicks that didn't take."
"But you remember them!"
"I don't remember any specifically, just the little half-assed quirks
dreamed up by fat Japanese men with a deadline. Animal ears and tails. Infinite
hair colours and iterations. Cripples. Twins. Maids.
Gothic, Victorian, medieval, mecha. And millions upon
millions of assembly line little sisters. Sometimes I watch them fade, when
they're forgotten, when their fad gimmick gets old and a new one comes
along."

When he spoke again after a long pause, Kumiko
thought his voice to be just a little off. Like it had a single string out of
tune.

"So many these days ... and they're all so similar, you know, I rarely
even bother to talk ..."
"You'll remember me, won't you Death-san?"
"... huh?"
"I'm still here! I haven't faded yet!"
"That is unusual."
"But the America-jin must have forgotten me
already! It's you keeping me alive, Death-san! It's you!"
"Hm."
"Please save me, Death-san! You can do it! You don't have to be
lonely!"
"I'm not lonely!"
"I'll remember as many people as I can! We'll do it together!"
"I'm not ..."
"And then no-one will ever have to disappear!"
"I ... but ..."
"Ehehe! Ehehehe! My body!"

Sure enough, her neck began to fade in slowly. She could feel it, feel her body
coming back, the warmth of it, the space of it ... and she could feel tears
falling from her eyes.