How to Kill a Shinigami
Disclaimer: Not mine.
"You're crazy, you know." I say idly, throwing apple cores at the ceiling. Not surprisingly, he doesn't answer. He hasn't been lately, opting instead to stare into space. Unfortunately, I had been flicking apple cores for awhile now, resulting in my imminent boredom.
"He's getting bored…just watching you do nothing all day." Speaking of things as if they have no importance, when in fact they hold the greatest importance in the world, is no small matter. Light used to be one of the masters at such things, and I like to think that I learned from the best. However, a shinigami is a god of death. Not a god of speaking eloquently, and my words startled Light out of his stupor. Even though he wasn't enraptured with the wall anymore, he still refused to look at me. As stated before, a shinigami is a god of death, and because of this, not used to being ignored. Even if the one ignoring you is Light Yagami.
Floating down from my comfortable spot in the corner of the ceiling, I rested myself casually to the left of his head. "You can't ignore me forever, Light." Again, he shifts, but this time to stare diligently at the floor.
"I'm not ignoring you." His voice is raspy, but he doesn't clear his throat.
"Who are you ignoring then?" Again, my attempt at being casual failed horribly. His hands reached up to clench his hair, while his eyes finally turned to rest upon me.
"Everyone." His eyes were wild and frightened, and his hands tightened on his hair. "They keep talking to me. Talking, talking, talking…" As he trailed off, his eyes calmed and became glassy before snapping back to reality. "They won't leave me alone!"
My earlier boredom completely erased, I studied him with interest. I couldn't remember the last time he had talked so much, and whatever it was, it certainly wasn't about this. "Who won't leave you alone, Light?" A shinigami's voice is not meant to be soothing or even to hold sympathy, and Light's face showed this.
"Everyone!" He repeated. "Ryuzaki keeps bringing cake, only Misa won't eat it. She says it's too fattening, and she has to be perfect for her next photoshoot." During his rant, he had torn out a few strands of his hair. They fell harmlessly on top of his bed.
"Misa and L are dead, Light." This wasn't really meant to consol, only to satisfy my own confusion.
"No they aren't!" His voice cracked from disuse. "They come and visit me every night. They all do. Everyone. My family, my team, my friends…my father…" As he spoke those last words, his voice broke slightly. "My father is so disappointed in me, Ryuk…so disappointed." He released his hair, and curled into himself on the bed.
"Ah…" I didn't really know what to say. He was looking at me again, and instead of the wildness that was there before, all I saw was pain. Tears began to well up, and he let them fall unhindered.
"He is so ashamed. Everyone is so ashamed…I can't make them stop. Go away…go away…" He tapered off into silence, his lips mouthing words I refused to recognize. His gaze finally lifted from me, and settled of somewhere above my left shoulder, still whimpering "kill me…kill me…"
I had lost him again. But at least he spoke for this long before returning to his regular pleas for death. At least I talked to him for more then two seconds. Still, without his welcome distraction, boredom fell upon me, heavy and dull. I didn't really want to leave, but at the same time I knew I could find some source of amusement, however weak, upstairs. Apples, too, if he had gone to the store like he promised.
I floated through the ceiling, feeling strangely empty. The kind of empty I only got after visiting Light. The empty that couldn't be filled with apples. And sometimes, even though I know I would never do it, I wish I had my death note. I want to help him. I really do. I'm just too selfish.
Even though Light ignored me as I left, as usual, my attention was caught by the hairs that he had pulled out in his fit of panic. My emptiness grew, as I took in the loneliness of the white strands against the dull army green of his cot. But, the number one rule of the shinigami popped into my head. And, like any good shinigami should, I pushed back all feelings and concentrated on my apples that were waiting upstairs.
This worked, for a while. At least until he got back. I was sitting peacefully, filling a bag with apple cores, when he made his presence known. See, one of the things he prides himself on is his sneaking ability. But it only takes so long before one can't help but sense him. Sometimes I'm grateful for this little skill, so I can avoid him. Other times, I wish my ability to detect him would go away. His presence is not a good one. Heavy and sticky, it reeks of pettiness and covers you completely. I imagine, for a human, it must make it hard to breathe.
"Ryuk." His voice, too, is sticky. Some of lesser intelligence might think of it as soft. Smooth and innocent in his childlike manner. But for those more experienced with the way of the world and those that live in it, it's not hard to realize it for what it really is. Manipulative. Repulsive and nauseating in its way of thinking that it already knows you and everything there is to know about the world.
"What." I grunt in return. I despise him, and use every possible opportunity to show my revulsion to his existence. Though, really, it doesn't do much good. He is very aware of my disgust for him, and being the aloof and emotionless little bastard he is, doesn't give a damn.
"I watched your conversation earlier." His pale fingers twist determinedly at his hair, and for a second I am forcibly reminded of light.
"Big surprise." I try to be as nasty as possible, even though it doesn't faze him. It at least gives me some sort of hollow satisfaction.
He smirks and crouches down on the floor across from me. "It's interesting." He murmurs, half to me and half to himself. "That his past torments him like that…" Something rises to my throat, acidic and bitter. And just like countless times before, I have to remind myself that I can't kill him.
As if reading my mind, he narrows his eyes at me slyly, the smirk never leaving his ugly lips. "I've been meaning to ask you this for a while Ryuk." I can tell by his tone of voice that he already knows the answer. Or at least he thinks he does. "It's been so long…you have been here on earth for decades. Don't you get tired? Don't you want to go home?" His fingers never stop twirling.
"No." I know where he is going to go with this. Had been waiting for it for years. For, like he said, decades.
"Really now." He looks kind of triumphant, as if he'd won a battle of some sort. Almost as quickly though, his smirk disappears and his face adopts a serious frown. I'm not fooled though. I can still see the sick amusement in his eyes. "Ryuk…why haven't you killed me?" Having asked his million dollar question, his fingers finally stop twirling, and instead he rested them upon his knees.
There are so many things I could say to this. So many lies, so many truths. But, I know that he knows the answer anyway. He is well informed on the rules of the shinigami. He probably knows them better then I do. Not that any of it matters now. The only important rule, the only one the truly matters…he knows the answer. He just wants me to say it. Just wants to win his sick game.
"I don't want to risk it." The acidic bile rose to my throat again at my confession as he smirks wider then before. His fingers resume their twirling, and he gracefully gets to his feet, his ugly face twisted in triumph.
"I must admit. You are a rather horrible excuse for a shinigami." With those last words, he turned and walked back to his computer to do the same thing he has done for the past fifty years. Sit and stare at Light. Never before had I wanted to kill him, or really anybody, this badly. My entire being ached with it. But I can't. I won't. He knows this, too.
I can't risk it.