A/N: Okay so this chapter is kinda confusing because it jumps back and forth between Min's lives. I tried to separate them. The italicized parts are her past life.

Min could remember the last time she died, perfectly. As she beheld her bunker again for the first time, all the memories came flooding back.

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The way Min died last time was utterly cool, in a actual blaze of glory. At the time, she was working as an arms dealer. The money and the thrill of the gig was too tempting for her to deny. Money was her ultimate weakness then. She had grown up dirt poor, moving from foster house to foster house (her addicted mother had abandoned her as a baby to perhaps the worst orphanage in the history of orphanages). Once she turned 18, she took her life in her own hands and turned to a life of crime. It all started with a simple con, acting as a helpless girl wandering the streets, asking for a ride home. Once she was picked up by an unsuspecting male, she would kick him out of his car and hijack it, taking the stolen vehicle to the nearest chop shop. Baby stuff. Not only did she get addicted to the money, but she also got addicted to the adrenaline rush that accompanied a well executed crime. Min was always ready and willing to step up her game, and soon she became a very successful con-woman, wanted by the government as a criminals and wanted by fellow criminals as a partner.

But back to the whole death thing, it was cool. A way that every criminal would want to go, like Thelma and Louise. And none of that stupid cashew business.

When she was working as an arms dealer, she had to deal with many people; she had many underlings, many partners, too many trails. So it wasn’t surprisingly that the feds finally caught her scent. Of course, she didn’t mess up. Some weak-hearted bastard at the bottom of the food chain let some crucial information pass through his weasley lips. Seriously, to Min, that guy should be in Hell right along with her. She was at headquarters, the heart of her operation, when she caught wind that the feds were making their way to her, ready to take her out. She was having a meeting with some of her henchmen at the time. She had to get rid of their traces, destroy the evidence, or else the whole operation would collapse. With her dead, it could still continue for a time with her main partner Sam (the bastard).

The room was rigged with explosives just in case the day would come. She gripped the trigger which she kept taped under the desk. She looked at her henchmen. “Well little f***ers, I hope that you kissed your mommies goodbye this morning because I’m blowing the out of us,” she said calmly already accepting her fate. She walked towards the glass window. Min had finally got penthouse she always dreamed of, with a fantastic view of the city’s skyline. She wanted this to be the last thing she saw before she died. The culmination of all her achievements not only monetarily but career-wise. She controlled the city’s underground, even the simple drug jobs. This city was hers. “Tonight we dine in Hell,” she spoke softly as she pressed the trigger.

The blast had tossed her out of the window. Her body hit the pavement, smashed into smithereens. She remembered stepping out of her body for the first time, gazing upon her remnants.  She crouched down besides it and studied it curiously, slowly drinking in the fact that she had just passed on. After seeing so many dead bodies in her life, it was weird to see her own. “Huh? That’s interesting,” was all she could manage to say. Then her eyes drifted downwards and saw that her black minidress had slipped up in the fall, exposing her lace underwear.  “Well that’s embarrassing,” she said. Even though her body was lacerated and burned, she still tried to pull the dress down in order to make her body look decent, but her ghosty fingers couldn’t grasp the fabric.

“You need help,” a voice spoke from behind. A long, lean figure in a black cloak step forward, bent down, and pulled down the dress until it covered her . “That’s some y looking underwear,” he said with a smile.

“Who the heck are you?” Min said, squinting her eyes at the hooded figure but not bothering to stand up.

“Guess,” he urged. He pointed towards his clothes and scythe as clues.

“Seriously, the Grim Reaper has a ?” Min responded.

Death’s round eyes widened at the accusation. “I was just trying to give you a compliment. That’s the last time I help you out,” he mumbled.

“So what now? Do I just follow you or something?” Min asked, finally standing up.

“Really?!” Death said excitedly. “You’ll come willingly? You won’t run? Pinky swear!” He said extending his pinky towards Min, who sighed and wrapped her pinky around his. They shook. “You can’t change your mind now,” he warned.

Min looked at him suspiciously. “A lot of people run out on you, huh?” He nodded sadly, kicking some of the glass shards with his foot. She gave him a big smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t run. I always keep my promises.” Well, at least those promises that she made with the intention of keeping. Despite being a skilled con artist, Min had a strong sense of loyalty, and rarely back-stabbed anybody, unless they deserved it.

Death smile was so large that it exposed his pink gums bordering the tops of his white teeth. “Awesome!” he exclaimed. Then he took her hands in his and frowned a bit. “To bad I have to take you to the other side now. I bet we would’ve been good friends.”

Not knowing how to react to this sudden friendship confession, Min just returned the sentiment, “Yea, I think so too.” A statement that she regretted saying later because the next time she met with Death/Sungyeol, he would not leave her side. Always, always, always talking her ear off about one thing or another. It was like he kept all of his worries inside, bottled up, and then just sprayed them all over her like opening a carbonated beverage that had been shaken. But as much as it would annoy her to admit, he did later become her friend. She was still nice to her even after she would scare of newbie souls at the Entrance of the Underworld, giving him a hard time.

After spinning their way to the underworld, Death escorted her to gloomy ferryman Hoya, and she bartered a ride from him by giving him all of her jewelry, including the Hope Diamond which she had stolen from the Smithsonian the year before.

It was in the Underworld, when she learned what happened after she had died while waiting in line to be judged by the Keeper. Apparently all the feds knew about the operation was where the headquarters was located. They had no idea who had been running the operation. They had later come to the conclusion that one of her henchmen (who only existed to pick up her dry-cleaning) was in charge, and she was just a lowly secretary. Stupid stereotypes. But even though the feds got it all wrong, she became a legend among criminals for even being able to evade the suspicion of the feds in death.

Then her turn came to be judged. She strutted up to the ivory podium with her hands on her hips. She was irritated with the long wait and being forced to hear everybody’s sob of a life story. “Can we hurry up and get this over with?” she demanded.

The Keeper looked up from the Book and laughed.  His eyes almost disappearing into his smile. “It’s not like we don’t have an eternity or anything,” he joked. He then turned his attention back to the Book and let out a low whistle. “But I can see the rush. You probably don’t want to air out all your dirty laundry in front of these strangers. You have quite the record…and the body count. We’re you trying to win the award for biggest badass or something?” he asked.

“Why? Did I win?” Min said with a sly smile.

The Keeper responded back with a sad smile as he unconsciously played with his lower lip with his thumb. “Yea, but I’m not sure that you’re going to like the prize.” Min looked down at the ground and gnawed at her lip. She would be lying if she said that there wasn’t the tiniest glimmer of hope in her dark heart, wishing that maybe, just maybe, God would overlook everything and admit her into Heaven. The Keeper had just snuffed that out. “Your last words held more truth than you thought,” he remarked.

Min looked up and faked a giggle. “There was a reason why I chose it.”

The Keeper nodded, impressed by her forethought. “It’s better than other ones that I’ve heard.” He leaned over the podium, bringing his face closer to Min’s.  “Did you see the last guy?” he whispered.

“The big guy with the comb-over and giant glasses,” Min whispered back.

The Keeper nodded and continued to whisper, “He died by falling down the stairs and…KRRRRECHH! Snapped his neck. He was wearing ten inch high heels at the time, and a red sequin dress. His last words were: I'm a pretty princess.” Min laughed genuinely, even snorting a little. “So in comparison, your last words were pretty cool,” he said in a normal tone, returning to his original position. He raised his eyebrows. “So are you ready?” he  asked.

Min dubiously looked at him. “Can you ever be ready for Hell?”

The Keeper nodded in acknowledgement, pointing his fingers at her. “That’s a good point. Guess not,” he said. Then he wrote the word down and spoke it at the same time, “Hell.”

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After recalling her first sentencing, Min sighed and opened the door to her personal bunker of Hell. She walked inside, ready for whatever fresh Hell the Devil had made for her. “What?! This can’t be right!” she exclaimed in disbelief. Her eyes scanned her surroundings. It looked like a bunker. Like your normal, run of the mill bunker. Entirely empty with the exception of a crappy twin bed, a small round table, and two chairs. Her feet were glued to the floor, and the hairs on the back of her neck began to stand up. It was like she was at the top of the first hill on the roller coaster, waiting for the cart to hurtle back down towards the earth. But it never came. Her punishment never came. “Maybe this is it,” she said as she threw herself onto the bed, and the springs groaned under the sudden weight. “Just waiting for a punishment that will never happen. Being alone too. But…it doesn’t seem that bad. Maybe he’s losing his touch.” She shifted her weight on the bed, attempting to find a comfortable position. Min was greeted with stubborn squeaks from the stiff mattress. “AUGH! This bed . The sadistic bastard,” she cursed under her breath. Her eyes fell on the wall, and realization sunk in. The door, it was still there. It didn’t disappear like it should have.

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The first time Min stepped a foot into her bunker, the rest of her body was in like it was a vacuum, and the door violently shut closed. She turned around to see the source of the noise, but the door had evaporated as if it was smoke, leaving behind a smooth, white wall. “What the…”

“Hell is the word that I believe you’re looking for,” a familiar husky, scratchy voice greeted her. Fear overcame Min as soon as she recognized it. She slowly turned around and saw the long and skeletal figure of her old fourth grade teacher, Ms. Gilbreath (and yes, that was her actual name).

Behind the elderly schoolteacher, Min saw that she had returned to her fourth grade classroom, complete with miniature desks and a poster of a cat dangling off of a tree branch with the title “Hang in there!” Min scoffed, “You can’t be serious.”

Ms. Gilbreath pushed her large, round glassed up the bridge of her nose. “Oh, I am dead serious,” the elderly woman responded with a vicious smile. She clasped a ruler in her talon-like hands and tapped a desk. “Take a seat. And we’ll start class.”

Min crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “And if I don’t want to?” she asked, raising a defiant eyebrow.

Shadows darkened the school teacher’s face, and she grew to twice her size, towering over Min. Ms. Gilbreath’s voice changed from that of a chain smoker to one of a raspy demon, “Do you want to test that theory?” Min shook her head, too scared to push her luck. Instead, she silently took her seat at one of the small desks, her knees skimming its bottom. Ms. Gilbreath returned to her normal, ugly state.

Somehow Min always knew that Ms. Gilbreath was a demon.

And somehow she also knew that this would inevitably be her punishment for her transgressions on earth. Her ADHD always made it difficult for her to concentrate (which even annoyed Gilbreath when she was alive, and she wasn’t much better in death either).  Min never thought that she would learn anything useful in a classroom either. She was street smart, but not book smart. Books were for nerds, or at least she once thought. Now she wished that she had paid attention because her afterlife was filled with nothing but test after test. She would fail, of course. But Gilbreath would force her to retake it until she reached 100%. It was aggravating. Every once in a while, Min would lose her temper and revolt against the mummy-like teacher, but Gilbreath would reveal her demon form, forcing Min’s mouth closed and her back into her seat. Min didn’t want to see how much worse Hell could become.

Then one time, after completing an advanced algebra test, Min looked up to turn her test in, expecting the teacher to burst it into flames and respond with the usual, “FAIL!” But she wasn’t there. Min looked around the classroom, looked under the desk, even looked under her foot. The demonic teacher was nowhere to be found. Min didn’t know if she felt relieved, having finally rid herself of Gilbreath, or anxious, anticipating an even worse punishment.

Min sighed and leaned her body against a wall, thinking of what she should do. As soon as Min’s back hit the wall, an unexpected projection dug into her back. “Ow!” Min turned around and frowned, but the frown morphed into a smile when she saw what it was, a doorknob. A way out of this Hell!

She immediately grabbed the knob and twisted it. Click! It was unlocked. Min in her excitement, the door open and stepped outside without looking. As a result, she tumbled face first into the rocky dirt. As much as Min hated having a mouthful of rocks, she relished the taste. She finally escaped the bunker of Hell. She was free! Free to do whatever she wanted!

…but what exactly was that? Maybe she should find a way to escape Hell entirely and gate-crash Heaven. Hey, if she could escape Gilbreath, Min waged that she could probably out run the Keeper, who seemed permanently glued to his seat.

Min got up and dusted herself off. She evaluated her surroundings. There was nothing but bunkers and rocks as far as the eye could see. Right now, at this moment, Min thought, in those bunkers, people are suffering their worst nightmares. An insatiable curiosity invaded her mind, taking over. So many bunkers and an eternity to explore them. She better get started.

Min decided to infiltrate the bunker next to her own first. The plaque read “Phillip Alan Duff.” She cautiously opened up the door and peered inside.  It was an elderly man eating nothing but dry toast with equally as old woman nagging him about anything and everything. Min smirked. The man looked completely resigned, ignoring the lady as best he could. But when his wife had noticed that he wasn’t paying attention, she would walk over and hit him in submission with a dish towel. Then the two would break out into an argument brining  up all of each other’s past transgressions, using them as weapons in their battle of words. “Oh Phil, what did you do to deserve this?” Min asked as she shut the door.

Others were more or less the same,  just people living out their worst nightmare. It was actually kind of mundane and boring. Min had already visited several bunkers where women were being scolded by their mother-in-laws, people being tormented by clowns, and teenagers forced to give speeches in front of a full lecture hall completely . There was one unusual punishment where a man was in a room filled with boxes of fried chicken, but every time he opened one, there would be nothing but bare bones. People had strange fears, but also ordinary. Min was starting to lose her mind to boredom. “Game of Thrones” was gorier than this. She was fighting back a yawn, when she approached the next bunker. Her eyes widened, and an anticipatory smile crept onto her face as she read to whom it belonged: Adolf Hilter.

She excitedly opened the door and saw a young Adolf painting at an easel with a man observing over his shoulder. A young man was modeling in front of them, laying out on a Persian rug. The older man was shaking his head. „Das ist sehr schlecht. Du sollst einen Mann malen. Nicht Bäume,“ he said.

Hitler frowned and continued painting. „Nein! Ich hasse Leute. Sie sind sehr hässlich. Ich werde Leute nie malen!“

Min crept into the room. The three men never even gave her a glance as two of them were arguing over the painting. She looked at what the little dictator had been slaving over. It was a beautiful landscape painting. At his master’s incessant urging, Hitler had tried to paint  the young man, but he somehow morphed the model into a tree, with rough, bark-like skin and long, dendrite fingers. Min smiled recalling the story of how Hitler was rejected from an art program because of his utter refusal to paint people. Apparently that had haunted him for the rest of his life.

Min frowned in disappointment. Even freakin’ Adolf Hitler’s ring of Hell was boring.  If one man should suffer, it should be him! What was wrong with this place? She left the bunker in a huff, stomping her feet as she walked, like a child who had been refused a toy. Was it too much to ask to see a little fire and brimstone? Where was the little red devil, prodding people with his pitchfork? It was like being promised a trip to Disney World, but ending up going to a rinky-dink “adventure” park instead. Her miniature tantrum was interrupted by a soft, “Ahem!”

Min immediately turned around and saw where the delicate noise came from. On the top of the bunker, a young man with long black hair, the ends brushing against his long eyelashes. He was everything Min thought an angel should look like. Young, innocent, and (annoyingly) prettier than she was. The boy gave her an aggravated smile. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” he complained. Then he gracefully jumped down from the roof and walked up to her. He wrinkled his brows in confusion. “How did you get out?”

Min was dumbfounded. She was so used to being ignored by everyone whom she visited recently that she pointed to herself and asked, “Me?”

The boy gripped her shoulders and turned her around. “Yes, you! I got to get you back to your Hell. Come on. Move it!” he demanded, giving her a gentle push.

Min wriggled out of his grasp and stepped aside, causing the little angel to tumble unto the ground. He yelped once he hit the ground and shot her an unhappy glance. Min automatically felt guilty for the pitiful deity and helped him up. “I’m sorry, but who are you?” she asked as she dusted him off.

He gave a bright smile. “I’m Sungjong, the messenger angel!” he announced, but his smile quickly faded into a discontented frown. “But everybody just uses me to run their errands. They just dump all the stupid jobs onto me just because I’m the youngest. I have to oversee all traveling and trading. And do something with boundaries, never quite understood that one. And I’m the psychopompos…”

“Psycho-what-us? What’s that?” Min asked as she watched Sungjong pick up rocks and throw them back down in frustration.

He stopped throwing rocks and wrinkled his brow. “I don’t really know, but it means that I have to make sure that you stay in your bunker.” He grabbed her by the wrist and began to drag her. “Come on! I got to get you back inside. I have no time to deal with you. I have to do God’s laundry later.”

“God has laundry?” Min asked.

Sungjong responded, “How do you think he stays immaculately white all the time? I have to wash them over and over and over again. God is such a slob!” He began to kick the rocks with every step he took.

Min giggled at this frustrated little angel. She let out a fake gasp, “Oooooh! You shouldn’t bad mouth God like that! What if he hears you?”

“I don’t care!” Sungjong defiantly said. Then he lifted his head skywards and shouted on the top of his lungs, “God is a slob! A big, giant slob!”

With that attitude, it’s no wonder why everybody gives him a hard time. He’s cute when he’s frustrated, Min thought. Not wanting to add to the youngest’s woes, Min compliantly followed along. Also the grip on her wrist was surprisingly tight, not being able to escape, even if she wanted to.

Once they reached her bunker, Sungjong opened the door and gently shoved her inside. “Have a good punishment!” he wished as he shut the door.

Unlike the first time Min entered the bunker, much to her surprise, the door did not meld into the wall and disappeared. It was still there, like your average door. She opened the door to a surprised angel. ‘What? How did you get out again?” Sungjong asked, completely annoyed. He pushed her back inside her hellish classroom. “Now stay put!” he commanded as he wagged his finger, trying to look threatening (and failing). But as soon as he shut the door, Min opened it right away. They continued this dance of opening and slamming shut doors for quite some time. Eventually Sungjong gave in, collapsing onto the ground, beginning to throw rocks again. “Why? Won’t you stay in?!” he complained, violently throwing a rock to the ground with every word he said.

Min crouched down next to him and ruffled his long hair. “Sorry, kiddo. I’m not going back in there,” she responded.

Sungjong looked up at her with a worried expression. “But you’re not supposed to be able to get out at all!”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Min asked as she took a seat next to the pretty angel.

Sungjong directed his gaze onto the ground. “No one’s been able to leave their bunker before. Not without me letting them. You’re not supposed to leave without my permission!” Then he jumped up, startling Min. He looked back at Min and said, “I have to go tell God. Now!” Sungjong left in a swirl of white fabric.

Min tried to reach out for him, trying to grasp any of the fabric. “No! Don’t do it! I don’t want to go back!” she begged, but it was too late. Sungjong had already left. Min sat on the ground, all alone.  She figured that there wasn’t much time until Sungjong ironed things out with the Big Man, and Min would be stuck for eternity in the demonic torturings of Gilbreath. But there was still one thing she wanted to see. One thing that had alluded her while she was exploring the bunkers. After all, a trip to Disney World isn’t complete without seeing Mickey Mouse. Why would Min finish her adventure in Hell without seeing Satan?

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A knock at the door abruptly interrupted Min’s trip down memory lane. She slowly got up from the creaky bed and shuffled her feet across the floor. Min took in a deep breath before opening the door, readying herself for whatever she was about to confront. To her surprise, she was greeted with a bright and smiling face. “Jjang!” Sungjong called out. He immediately brought her into a hug. “Min, I missed you! I had no one to play with. No one helped me. I’m so glad you died again!” He began to jump up and down with excitement.

Min laughed and patted the jumping angel a couple of times on the back before peeling him off of her. “You’re happy I died?” Min asked, putting on a fake frown.

Sungjong looked lost for a second, grappling to find the right words. “Uh, no, it’s just that…”

“I was just teasing. I missed you too,” Min said, patting him on the shoulder. “I just wished that I had more time to miss you. So what’s up?”

Sungjong clapped his hands. “That’s right! I forgot!” he exclaimed. “You’ve been summoned.”

Min frowned for real this time. “Do I have to? I’m not in the mood to see God right now,” she complained.

“No, not Him, but him,” Sungjong answered, playing nudging Min. “Lucifer called for you.”

Min’s eyes grew to twice their size. “Really?” her voice squeaked, but then she coughed, trying to coolly cover her shock. “Yea, I was wondering about this. I think that he’s losing his touch,” Min finished pointing to her nearly empty bunker.

Sungjong peeked inside and squinted in confusion. “Huh? That IS weird.” Then he grabbed her hand. “But whatever, we go to go! Sungyeol wants me to polish his scythe for him, so we have to hurry. Let’s go!” The couple disappeared with a pop and a white eddy of fabric.

The two reappeared at Pandemonium, the palace in the center of Hell. It was the size of two football fields, made in the Greco-Roman style, complete with Corinthian columns. Its foundation looked as if it was built on the backs of hundreds of thousands suffering mortals with grotesque, pained faces and blistering skin. But upon further inspection, they were nothing but very detailed statues. Hell was all  bark and no bite. Min sadly smiled as she looked at the palace where she used to spend so much time.

“Good luck! Maybe when you’re done, you can help me patch up Hoya’s boat! Bye!” Sungjong said quickly and disappeared just as fast, before Min could even register what he had said.

“Wait!” Min called after him, but she was just talking to herself. She turned back to the palace and sighed. Looks like she’ll have to face him alone. Too bad. He really likes Sungjong, Min thought. He never yells when Sungjong is around. After a few moments, gathering her courage and steeling her heart, Min put on a brave smile and walked up to the door. She delicately the large brass L decorating the double doors. Her smile faltering for a second. Then she pushed the doors wide open and strutted into the lobby.

In the lobby, there were seven large desks, each manned by one of the deadly sins. Sloth was, as usual, passed out on her desk, drooling over her papers. Gluttony had shoved her papers off of the desk to make room for the large banquet that she was cramming down . Wrath was yelling with someone on the phone. Envy and Greed (identical twins with desks flushed next to each other) were bickering with each other as usual, stealing items from each other’s desks claiming that it was theirs. Pride was the only one doing work because she always claimed that she took pride in her work. After seeing Min make her grand entrance, the last sin, Lust walked up to greet her. Lust walked around Min, eyeing her up and down. “Well, well, well. Look who’s back,” the sin said. Then she picked at the shoulder of Min’s over-sized t-shirt.  “Interesting outfit. I preferred the little black dress you wore last time better. It was...ier,” she said in a low voice.

Min smiled. “Well we can’t choose what we die in. I’m just lucky I was ,” she joked.

Lust raised an eyebrow. “I bet he would’ve enjoyed that.” Min blushed at her remark. Lust continued, “He’s just inside. Oh, and welcome back.”

After waving farewell to Lust, blowing past the other sins (she didn’t like the other ones too much), Min barged right through the office doors exclaiming, “Luci! I’m home!”

Across from her, sitting at a large, black desk completely covered in stacks of paper, Lucifer raised his head from the case he was currently looking at. His eyes grew with shock as soon as they apprehend Min’s. “You!” he exclaimed in genuine surprise.

Min made her way across the room and plopped herself onto his desk. She took up a piece of paper, pretending to examine it, but really she was trying to distract herself from Lucifer’s piercing gaze which was now boring into her core. “You sound surprised to see me,” she scoffed. “What? Did you miss me, L?” she asked jokingly, shooting him a playful glance but immediately retracted it once she saw his face, still in shock, with his mouth hanging slightly open.

“Tch!” L scoffed, finally breaking his surprised expression, returning back to his usual cold and serious face. “You’re the one who was given a second chance and wasted it.” He turned to her with a chic smile. “If anyone missed anyone, you missed me. “

Min broke out in a peal of laughter. “Psh! Don’t think so highly of yourself. Being a bad girl was too much fun.”

L turned his attention back to his papers. “I know that you like to think that you’re a big badass and everything, but you’re not even a blip on my radar. Leave. I need to get back to work,” he ended, gesturing her with a wave of his hand to leave.

Min didn’t move except for crossing her arms. “Look. You’re the one who summoned me…”

L interrupted, “No, I didn’t.”

“But Sungjong…”

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t even know that you died,” L plainly stated as he shuffled papers.

Min stood up and stepped closer to L. “What do you mean, you didn’t know?” she asked.

L calmly put down his papers and looked at her. His eyes were dark and cold, sending shivers down her spine. “Look. I don’t have time to do this with you. Just leave.”

Min’s curiousity wouldn’t be satiated. L’s refusal to even answer her questioned made her even more suspicious. “You’re the freakin’ Devil. It’s kinda your job to know” she said, demanding an answer.

A fire was lit behind L’s eyes. He crumpled a paper in his hand. His dark eyebrows slanted downwards, creating deep creases between them. He gritted his teeth and growled through them, “I...didn’t…know. I didn’t want to know.”

“L, I…” her voice was shaking.

“Damn it, Min!” he said. He hung his head, and his hands began to grab at his black hair. He let out a groan before returning back to his cold and chic self. “Do you want to know why you had a second chance?”

“Because I’m special?” Min joked.

L winced before he brushed off her comment. “No, it because I didn’t want you here, and you don’t belong in Heaven. It was the only place you could go. I had hoped…” he stopped, wondering if he should continue. “That you would live well enough to get into Heaven, and I would never have to see you again. But leave it up to you to screw up your only chance at Heaven.”

Min looked at the floor, shoving down her feelings that were threatening to break out, trying to maintain an expression as cold as L’s. It was hard. “You didn’t want to see me?” she asked.

“No, not particularly,” L said, stapling two papers together. He couldn’t look at her either.

Min forced a laugh. “Good! To be honest, I didn’t want to see you either. Now I guess we don’t have to see each other for…like forever.” She tapped on the desk to grab L’s attention. He looked up at her, and she gave him the biggest smile she could muster. “Well, bye. Have a nice life.”

The fire had died down in his eyes. “Uh…yea, you too,” L managed to say. And with that, Min left the room. She waved goodbye to the deadly sins as she walked passed them. Then she walked out of the palace with her head held high.

Lust couldn’t help but to laugh. “Even with that frumpy outfit, Min’s still go it.”