Rem is a shinigami, and she is unworthy.
She will never be worthy.
Not of Misa Amane.
She is all hard bony ridges and shades of gray, sharp angles and sandpapery skin. She brings death with her, wears it like a cloak, exhales it when she goes through the unnecessary motions of breathing. A shinigami, a sullied, filthy creature of darkness and decay, capable of emotion but unable to feel.
Misa Amane is beautiful, soft curves and rosy lips, wide hazel eyes framed by long dark lashes. Pure and innocent, pale and perfect, the human girl is all that Rem is not. She is the opposite of death, with her vibrant eyes and her warm laughter. Misa, everything about Misa, exudes life.
Rem can see why Gelus died to save her.
She would do the same, given the chance.
She loves Misa, she supposes. Unfamiliar with the term love, with the feeling, she can't be entirely sure. But when you would die for one, crumble to so much dust and ash and be scattered by the wind so that they can keep on living, keep on filling this despicable earth with their warmth, keep on existing, that is love, is it not?
Misa must live. She is like the sun, with her gentle vibrancy like the sun's rays and the color of her silky golden hair. Those dear to her orbit around her, whether they know it or not, and she is the one who keeps them in balance.
What would this pitiful planet be without its sun?
There are others who love Misa, of course, and even more so, those who lust after her. It makes a scowl cross Rem's ridged face, watching the men leer after her as she skips by, unaware of her effect and oh-so-innocent.
She hates every one of them. They would make her blood boil if she had any, those filthy creatures thinking themselves worthy to gaze upon Misa Amane, much less touch her. She is unworthy, but at least she knows it. She accepts it. And by accepting it, she has sealed her fate.
Light Yagami she hates most of all. He is the one her dear Misa loves, wholeheartedly and blindly, her eyes glazing over his many, many faults and painting a picture of the New World's perfect god.
He is all that her Misa wants, he holds the sun in his hands, and forever will. Yet he feels nothing for her. Rem may be a shinigami, but Yagami is the monster. He may be intelligent and handsome. His antics may be amusing, a fascinating game. All the same, she rather wishes that he was dead. But she will not harm him. For Misa would be miserable.
She doesn't want that.
So she does not write Yagami's name in her Death Note.
The shinigami have a story, a tale of one who became obsessed with the light and heat of the sun, who flew into it and incinerated, dissolving in a puff of so much ash.
Before she knew Misa, she scoffed at the doomed creature's idiocy.
Now, she understands.
But still she will not share that creature's fate. No. Rem is too wise for that. She is not greedy, she does not fly into the sun. She lingers at its edges, soaking up the warmth of its rays from a distance. She takes what she is given, sweet words and smiles, if she is fortunate, a gentle touch, and would not dream of asking anything more.
For Rem is a shinigami, and she is unworthy.
She will always be unworthy.