DISCLAIMER: I do not own Death Note. All rights belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. I also do not own the lyrics to 'Strawberry Gashes'. All rights belong to Jack Off Jill. I only own my OC's-'Kirau', and…that's it, for main characters. And this particular fanfic. Thank you.

Welcome to Psychosis

"…and…there! All done!"

It had been about a week and a half since Kirau's freak out, and so far, it appeared as if everything was back to normal. She was going to work as usual, grumbling about the traffic, and writing down names every so often into the Death Note. Her demeanor was the same as it had always been.

So then…why did Ryuk feel so uneasy?

It wasn't like him to be nervous. For the most part, he was as laid-back as they came. Aside from his apples, nothing could really grab his attention or put him in a panic. But as he looked down at the dirty blonde haired figure beneath him, as she closed the black notebook and stretched, he felt a distinct pang of discomfort deep inside. And he had no clue as to its source.

"Haah…man, what a day." Kirau stretched, letting out a long yawn; she'd been writing in the Note for nearly an hour. No big names tonight, though. Just some small fries. He most notably remembered an embezzler, set to die by being crushed to death with the rest of his gains at the bank, and a construction manager involved with the criminal element, carved up by one of his own worker's machines. Kirau had enjoyed the occasional horror flick in her high school days.

As her thin arms extended upward, the baggy sweater sleeves slid down just enough to reveal the wound on her arm. Ryuk blinked. It had scabbed over, and even now was still red and raw-a deep, ugly reminder of that day so long ago. Had it really been only seven days? Time seemed distorted now, as he took in the jagged, healing gash upon her pale flesh. It was slightly tinted yellow-probably infected.

Why didn't she take care of it like most humans would? Human beings didn't like to be hurt…at least, from what he had seen. There were those strange few that actually inflicted pain upon each other-but it was controlled, and done for pleasure. He still couldn't grasp the reasoning behind this.

'CLICK' The apartment went dark, as Kirau flicked off the light switch. Lying down slowly on her disheveled mat, she sighed and rolled onto her right. Ryuk floated over, legs crossed, watching as her breaths became steadier. "'night, Ryuk…" she trailed off faintly, red lips slightly parted as she finally passed out for the night.

"Mm…" Ryuk rolled in the air, taking in the slumbering form beneath him. She confused him to no end. Would he ever figure her out? All those unanswered questions nagged at him, pestering him about the fact that this time around, he wasn't in control.

Light had told him everything. He had him figured out right off the bat. But Kirau…she never stayed on one rhythm. First, she was happy, then she'd become angry, suddenly logical, and then finally miserable. And she'd never opened up much to him, either. All he knew so far was that she had a bizarre method of associating religion with her life. Such deep scars…

"Uh?" And for the first time in ages, he remembered: her legs.

When Ryuk had first encountered Kirau at her apartment, he'd noticed the dark lines stretching across her spindly legs. Scars. And lots of them. But until that incident, it had never really registered with him. Now, his mind was in a flurry. Had those scars been caused by the same method? And if so, how many wounds did she really have on her arms?

The Shinigami sighed. Those stupid nerves were beginning to set in again. He could find an answer to his query-all he had to do was reach over and roll up Kirau's sleeves.

So why was he so frightened?

Baah! I'm a God of Death! I fear nothing! Least of all some puny human! With a huff of determination, he shot out a clawed hand to complete the task-only to stop an inch away from her face.

Ryuk was frozen in place. He wanted to move, was desperate to move-but couldn't. All he could do was stay still in that awkward position; his legs were crossed, his torso was leaning forward with an arm outstretched, and Kirau's ruby red lips were nearly grazing his palm. He felt a strange shiver snake up his spine, as the sleeping girl let out a slow, warm breath.

Oh, come on! Get it together! Shaking his head quickly, he allowed his hand to drop down slowly, first to her neck, then her shoulders and collar. A twitch to the left, and now he was ghosting over her upper arm; the bed, pillow, and…

"Finally! Now, let's see here…" Ryuk was eager to just get his answer. After this was done, he was going to reward himself with another nice, juicy apple. His thin branch-like fingers wrapped around the thick, fuzzy material of her top. With a sharp jerk, the sleeve rolled up-

"Jeez!" It was all Ryuk could say. There, almost glowing in the pale moonlight…

An army of various sized and shaped scars littered the porcelain flesh. Some were move vibrant than others-crusted yellows and bloody red scabs, and some were bright scarlet rings. Others were thick, in pink and mottled purple shades. And a few were thin-thin and white, just like the substance called 'milk'. They were so very pale indeed. He stared, both horrified and transfixed by the unique image.

"Are these…?" He turned her arm slightly to the left, revealing more damage. A line of tiny dots trailed up from her wrist to mid-arm, indicating puncture. Most likely they were created by a needle, or some other fine tipped instrument-but had she really made all of them?

And when? There were more fresh ones, not just the one he'd been witness to. But there weren't many moments where the two of them weren't together somehow.

"I still don't get it. Is she finding some kind of pleasure outta this or something?" After a second of hesitation, he lifted the other side. Same result. An endless array of scars. But what secrets did they hide? What story did they tell?

Gently releasing the girl's arms from his grip, Ryuk floated up higher, until he was almost grazing the ceiling. He stared down, absolutely mesmerized, at the sleeping being below him.

Such wonders she'd introduced him to! A whole new category of human; this was definitely something to record. What fun he would have figuring out what made her tick. He would be back in control in no time. Oh, if only his Shinigami brethren could see him now! He was on the brink of an entirely new adventure in the Human Realm!

Seemingly content, he closed his eyes, allowing his mind to wander and explore.

Unfortunately, his sleep was not to be pleasant. For the first time in a long time, he not only dozed, but he dreamt. And they were haunted by visions of scars, lining his way like giant spiderwebs, drowning in a sea of piercing ocean eyes. Sometimes, he could hear the sounds of crying; other times there was screaming and cursing. And more than once, he'd heard the sounds of someone choking.

But they always ended on the same note: a single drop of blood falling from high above, turning into an apple before it reached the ground.

….

"What? He got stuck down there again? What's wrong with that guy?"

It was another sluggish day in the realm of the Shinigami. Filled to the brim with the usual timeless activities: cards, gambling, snoozing and scouting, for the occasional human target. Nothing so startling or new.

But today was different. At long last, the absence of Ryuk had finally reached the eyes and ears of all in this dreary community of the dead. And the response was astounding.

"Gee…you think he might be a little loony or something?" A Death God with long, stringy white locks framing a skull face that resembled a horse in length, and skinny oversized appendages was sprawled out along the debris and dirt, flashing a lazy grin to another companion to his left. The other figure shrugged in reply. "Hell if I know-but I seriously wouldn't doubt it. I mean, come on! His first trip lasted nearly what, a decade or two? How could he put up with it for so long?" The speaker was rounder, with glowing golden eyes and jagged teeth that jutted out over his lips. He scratched his belly with a clawed red hand. "He's either insane, or he's got the patience of a saint."

"Ha! Saint, my ass! He's just looking for trouble, that's what it is!" Yet another Shinigami was chiming in with his own two cents, spitting as he chortled mockingly. "When the King gets his hands on him…oh man, but I would not wanna be in his shoes! He's screwed!" Again, he spit as he stood from his place on a nearby rock. Untangling his multiple legs, he slithered off with a leering grin upon his scarred face. His eye sockets were hollow, with only a speck of red reflecting from deep inside. His head was covered in spikes. The other two exchanged glances.

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin', Jagu?" The horse face toed at the ground with prominent talons upon his feet. "Why? What are you thinking, Deagon?" The rotund Death God let out a snort.

"What I'm thinkin', is…this is a primo betting opportunity." Jagu's eyes widened. "Just imagine it: a line that extends for miles, with guys ready and willing to lay down their prized belongs and free time, to throw in their two cents about our nutty apple muncher down below." He jabbed a thumb towards one of the many pits that led to other worlds. "We'd reap the rewards, and get to enjoy a free show in the process. After all, I heard that this time, Ryuk's wound up with a human chick."

Jagu licked his lips. "A female? Now that does sound interesting." He stroked his chin in thoughtful consideration. Deagon nodded.

"Uh-huh. I mean, remember that last guy he got stuck with? Not much to watch there, right?" The horse face mumbled a reply of agreement. "This time, it's some young girl with a penchant for temper tantrums." Jagu snickered. "Ryuk must be goin' outta his gourd by now. Why'd he give someone like that the Death Note, anyway?"

Deagon shook his head. "Beats me. But at least we'll get to turn a profit from this whole situation." He watched as a somewhat more enthusiastic Jagu rose up from his spot in the dirt. "One man's misery is another man's cash cow, you know?"

"Alright, alright. I'm sold." He gave Deagon a questioning glance. "How many of these schmucks actually know about this, anyway?"

"Pretty much all of them have heard of it. But as for all the details…well, you know." Now Deagon looked sheepish. Jagu smirked. "So, should I spread the word?"

"Do it. I'll start collecting the wagers." With a quick salute, Jagu had shambled off to gather their crowds. Deagon rubbed his razor-lined hands together in quiet anticipation. Why would anybody leave this place, anyway? It made no sense to him whatsoever. Ryuk seriously needed a lobotomy or something. He was missing out on all the real fun. Deagon cracked a last grin, as he headed in the direction of the crater that projected a glimpse into the world that Ryuk currently occupied.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, you impish bastard…who'da thunk it?" You're a celebrity here now; your exploits are legendary. And you're not even here to reap the rewards, either.

With heavy footsteps, Deagon scanned the terrain through swollen golden eyes.

….

"Hey. Hey. Kirau, wake up already. Come on-I'm hungry! And you gotta go to work, too…"

It was morning in the human world. The sun was shining in through the grimy windows-obviously, cleaning wasn't one of Kirau's strong suits-and as the birds twittered outside the glass to ring in the dawn, Ryuk was hovering over the dozing figure wrapped up in the heavy, tattered blankets beneath him. Only a tuff of straggly blonde-brown hair poked up above the edge of the sheets.

The cloth was frayed and greasy, nearly tearing in Ryuk's sharp grasp. How long had she had these coverings, anyway? They felt disgusting! Ignoring the disquieting thought of the new owner of his Note not bothering to wash her bedding with the rest of her laundry, seeing as she couldn't be bothered to take care of her clothes on a regular basis, he gave the bundle another rough shove. "Get up, you lazy kid!" It felt strange to call her a kid, but technically she still wasn't a full-blown adult. Besides, with the way she was acting now, it wasn't too far from the truth. Kirau groaned softly, scrunching up tighter under the ratty blankets. "Mm…back off…just a little while more…"

Ryuk scoffed quietly. Yep. Just like a kid. Lowering himself down next to her ear, he let out a slow breath. "Wake up already…" he ended the request in a hiss, and saw Kirau shiver under the sheets. "I need apples…" After all the crazy dreams that he'd had the night before, he'd ended up gorging on the entire bag of fruit from the cooler. Four apples, gone in five minutes. So of course, it was imperative that Kirau get up ASAP.

"Ngh…" Without warning, the female rolled over, kicking the messy covers from her skinny body. Ryuk let out a yelp, stumbling before he managed to regain his balance and return to the air above the groggy girl. That movement wasn't what had freaked him out, though. It was the fact that when Kirau had shifted positions, her lips had come way too close to brushing against his own. And that wasn't an experience he'd care to undergo.

Why? There it was again-that stupid little second voice in his head. Perhaps he really had been spending too much time among the humans. His 'conscience' or whatever had popped up once more, and was now prodding him for an elaboration as to his previous concerns. Ryuk resisted the urge to stick out his tongue; a typical mannerism of childish annoyance practiced by humans, as he focused his gaze on Kirau, who was finally upright and perched on her knees. Rubbing her eyes, she tucked a strand of her tangled locks behind her left ear.

There is nothing to answer here. I just didn't want to give her a heart attack. In response, the voice began chuckling. Ryuk felt his cheeks begin to noticeably prickle from that same heat that had crept into them before. Right, right. I'm sure that it has absolutely nothing to do with a fear of close contact between you and this utterly entrancing meat puppet.

"Shut up!" Ryuk's loud outburst had nearly caused Kirau to bite through her tongue. With a war cry, she frantically yanked up her pillow, and flung it in the direction of the voice. "I-I don't know who the hell you are, but-but you'd better get outta my house! Or I-I swear to God-I have weapons! I-I have-I have rabies! Argh!" Gnashing her teeth, Kirau was surprised to hear silence after her bizarre retorts. Blinking, she looked to her left and locked eyes with a stupefied Ryuk.

The Shinigami was staring at her, astonished by her actions. He'd been expecting her to yell and scold him, not to go on a tirade against some imaginary burglar. "Rabies? Correct me if I'm wrong, but…I thought that you guys would just get sick from the disease; not become ultra-violent like the other animals." The female was still frozen in an embarrassed shock.

"Uhh…hi?" Kirau's first and final attempt to remedy the situation failed, as Ryuk continued to look on with a bewildered expression upon his face. Dressed in the same baggy clothes that she'd been wearing for the last week-yes, a week-she resembled a little child who had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Neither party spoke, as a few more moments passed in uncomfortable silence.

Then, Kirau glanced at her clock. "Oh…oh, no. Shit. Shit!" And that was it. Now she was in full-on panic mode, rushing about her meager abode to get ready for her shift at the convenience store. "Christ on a bike, I'm late! I'm so late! That old fart is gonna blow out my ears with his rant!" Giving the Shinigami male a loathsome glare, she blasted at him "Why didn't you wake me up? You're a good for nothing!"

Ryuk lifted his hands in self-defense. "Hey, I was trying to wake you up! Don't snap at me! It's not my fault if you're too dead to the world to hear me! I even shook you a few times!" For some reason, Kirau felt her heart skip hearing this admission. She didn't know why. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to make up for the lapse on her side of the argument by firing back "Well, you'd better not have let those lobster claws of yours go roaming all over! Got it, you perv?"

Ryuk wanted to shout. She still hasn't forgotten about the underwear incident? Forcing himself to remain calm, he chose to reply instead with "We've also run out of apples. So I expect you to buy some more later today."

Kirau whirled around. "Oh, so now you're demanding that I buy your damn fruits?" Ryuk had to take a step back. This was not how he'd planned to start off the day. A pissed off Kirau was worse than Light when he was plotting. Mainly because she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. Light had always used others to achieve his ends.

"Look, I'll get you your apples, okay?" Kirau was hurriedly tugging on her oversized jacket, and with the sweater bulging beneath it she resembled a lost traveler from snow country. "But right now, I've got bigger fish to fry!" Ryuk blinked. What fish? How had Kirau gotten her hands on fish? And why was she gonna cook it now? Wasn't she already late for her job?

She did not explain any of these baseless facts, as she scooped up her knapsack, and shoved her stocking feet into the familiar beat up combat boots by the door. "Traffic is gonna be a pain at this hour…" Unlocking the entrance, Kirau bolted outside, and Ryuk trailed after her noiselessly. He watched with muted amusement, as she stumbled on the sidewalk; she hadn't bothered to tie her shoelaces. Thundering down the pavement, the crowds of the morning commute loomed ahead in the rapidly approaching distance. Kirau huffed in disgust.

"Alright, move it! I got somewhere to be! 'Scuse me, please! Outta my way, lady!" The scrawny girl was now navigating the massive crowds, bumping into various faces at every turn. Even with her pardons and apologies, there was still something so rough and bitter about her. More than one patron shot Kirau a dirty look, as she continued on through the wave of people. The store was at least three blocks away, so Ryuk hovered along, an audience of one to the ultimate performance in human existence. Kirau let out another loud curse as she tripped upon her own shoes yet again. But even as she sat on the pavement with palms scraped raw and knees torn from the cement, she rose up without missing a beat, to march on to her final destination.

"There! Salvation!" Never thought that'd I'd ever actually refer to that rat-trap by such a name, but whatever! At least I'll be safe from these hordes; I'll only have to deal with that short-stack of a boss! Wiping her brow, Kirau shrugged her pack from her shoulders and barreled her way through the glass doors.

Just as she'd expected, Mr. Marcus was waiting for her with a few choice words to share about her attendance. After finishing his long winded tirade, the portly old man marched off into the backroom. Kirau stuck out a middle finger at his retreating figure. Most likely he was going to watch some cheesy daytime TV, and pass out from a mixture of salty chips and beer. She shook her head in revulsion.

"Damn, that guy can really go on." Ryuk was picking at his ear, wincing from the memory of the male's harsh tones. How could Kirau continuously put up with his grouchy attitude? He was like a miser! An intriguing thought crossed his mind, as he floated above the counter, watching Kirau haul on the faded apron uniform. "Hey, Kirau?" The girl turned to look at him. There was still a trace of irritation evident in her sea-green eyes. "What, monkey?"

Ryuk chose to ignore the insult. "Ever think of doing that guy in?" She tilted her head in bewilderment. "You have the means to do so. Imagine: having this whole place to yourself, without having to put up with his incessant barking. How does that sound?" A small grin played upon Kirau's ruby lips, and she shook her head at the now puzzled Shinigami. "What?"

"Thanks, but no thanks. Like hell I really wanna deal with the PD on my ass, asking all those annoying questions. And even if they didn't come looking for him-because I know that stiff doesn't have a wife or nothing-I'm not going to stand for a dead body on the premises. And where's the fun in offing my own boss? No more paychecks, no more roof over my head." Kirau stuck out her tongue.

Ryuk pouted for a moment. "Aww…you're no fun." He'd been hoping that she would agree to his inquiry. Just his luck that her morals and standards would kick in right when he wanted a serious killing case the most. He lumbered off to browse the aisles in muted displeasure. "Suit yourself, then."

Kirau wasn't even paying attention. Her eyes had glazed over, and she was staring out the glass door from her vantage point, surveying the various characters that ambled by. Her thoughts drifted to Ryuk's idea one last time before fizzling out completely.

Huh…what a strange way to show somebody that you care for them. The idea brought a new flush to her cheeks, and she had to shrug off her heavy coat. Shaking out her clothes and returning to her usual stance on the counter, she snickered quietly. Yeah, right. The only thing he cares about is his own satisfaction. Not mine. And anyways, that thing would just start rotting and stinking to high heaven in a week's time. Who wants to live with that? Thus, the thought was effectively squashed.

And so, the day dragged on, with only a curious spectator or two wandering in, to see if the place was actually still in business. No one bought anything, which irked Kirau enough that she finally snapped at one pair who had been trailing along the nearest aisle; they'd been reading the labels and expiration dates from the tin cans. But they'd flown out the door as soon as Kirau had let loose on them with a choice assortment of curses and threats. Ryuk had gotten a light chuckle out of this occurrence, and it had helped to somewhat brighten his mood, as morning gave way to day, and day gave way to evening. It was a start.

….

"Aww, man...just look at this weather. So much for getting things done today..."

It was a new morning, and Kirau had been awakened by none other than the sound of thunder. Rolling over on her mat, she'd seen Ryuk hovering near the windows, watching impassively as one after another, heavy droplets had fallen from the sky, to splash against the glass, the walls or the pavement below. She'd let out an irritated sigh, sitting up slowly.

"At least I don't have work today. Thank God for small favors, I suppose." Ryuk glanced over at her, interest briefly coloring his pale features, before fading as she stood up from her mess of old blankets to head for the cooler on the floor. For someone who had such a twisted relationship with the Heavens, she certainly invoked the deity's name often enough to suggest otherwise. Or perhaps it was done out of spite? He was more inclined to lean towards the latter.

"Shit...no iced tea." Kirau's sea green eyes narrowed, as she surveyed the melting ice inside the plastic container with distaste. Only the bag of apples and a bottle of water remained. And since she used the water for more than drinking, she had nothing to sip on. Letting out a growl of frustration, the girl skulked off towards the TV in the corner. She flopped down cross-legged, leaning back on her palms as the rain continued to pour down in bucket-fulls. Until it let up, she couldn't go out to replenish her stock. So, she was stuck among these four walls, thirsty and bored.

She couldn't even use the Death Note to alleviate her stress; when the weather was like this, the television conked out completely. Running a hand through her tangled, loose locks, fingers getting caught on a knot, she wondered if investing in the local paper wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Ryuk was still watching her, unaware of the thoughts that coursed through her mind. But he didn't have to be a genius to know that the wheels were in motion. He'd lived with her long enough to recognize when she was lost in deep ruminations. Floating over to the yet open cooler, he pulled out an apple for himself. As he was shutting the lid however, he cast another glance over at the silent girl, whose face was turned away from him. Letting out a soft sigh to himself, he grabbed a second fruit.

"Oi. Girl." She jumped, obviously startled by his call. Looking back in his direction, face in an expression of mild bewilderment, she was surprised by Ryuk throwing the apple towards her. She managed to catch it in shaky hands, before giving the male creature a quizzical stare. "What's this for? You're not usually this generous..."

Ryuk was now gazing out the window. He had no answer as to his actions, either. But he wasn't about to tell her this. He would never be caught without an answer. He was in control here. Not her. "Feh. Watching you like this makes me sick. So I'm giving you something to do. Got a problem with that? 'Cause I don't mind eating two apples myself."

Kirau scoffed, bringing the fruit to her lips to take a bite. "Weirdo. Whatever, thanks. It's better than nothing." Biting down, she chewed thoughtfully. The sweet, sticky juice seeped over her teeth and gums, a faint drip trailing down from her lips to the edge of her chin.

The Shinigami still hadn't looked back at her, his wide yellow eyes trained on the falling water outside. He remembered that when he'd first entered Light's world, it had been pouring, too. Rain didn't bother him. He was a God of Death, used to still air and dust clouds. He enjoyed the change of pace, especially since the water couldn't reach him. He didn't have to worry about being soaked to the bone.

Now Kirau was staring out the glass as well. The apple sat in her hand, only bitten into once. A memory was transpiring across her mind, from the depths of her fractured childhood.

It had been a rainy day, just like this, when she'd first heard that song. She was but a child, wandering up the stairs, the carpet caving just slightly under her pink stockinged feet. Her tiny hands had held onto the metal banister, skin absorbing the chill as she'd gazed out at the tall windows in the parlor, covered in streams of rain that continued roaring down.

The faintest notes had reached her ears, and she'd brushed back a long strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear before resuming the trek upwards. As a youth, it had seemed that walks up and down the stairs had been much longer than they were now. She could easily bound about the levels in less than a minute's time, but back then, she'd always been so hesitant and careful.

She'd made her way down the hall, the music growing louder as she'd peered around the partially cracked open door. The last door. Her mother's room. Her eyes had wandered over the familiar scenery: the piles of dirty clothes, the various books and papers, the old food wrappers and plates. She'd stepped in silently, making her way over to the four-post bed, doing her best to avoid the splayed Bible and Jehovahs Witness pamphlets scattered beside her mother's slippers and socks.

She'd climbed up the bedsheets and duvets, taking in the sight of her parent, fast asleep among the squalor as the boombox continued to blare on repeat. Her short, salt-and-pepper locks stuck up on the pillows, as her crinkled green shirt and black jeans were lost among the covers.

The song had reached its end, seconds of silence gracing the stale air; a mix of sweat, cigarettes, booze and grease, as the rain pounded upon the roof. Then, the tune began again.

"Turn her over,

A candle is lit, I see through her.

Blow it out, and

Save all her ashes for me..."

Ryuk did a double-take, nearly swallowing his apple core whole. Whirling around, he looked on in amazement at the skinny figure seated upon the wooden floor, as those familiar words fell from her syrupy lips. This song...

He had never admitted it, but that haunting melody had been on his mind ever since the lyrics had first graced his ears. He'd always wondered about asking Kirau where it had come from, or even if she might have been interested in a repeat performance. It was simply because he was curious, and the melancholy helped to curb his cravings for destruction when Kirau was in no mood to invoke the Death Note. That's all. He leaned back in the air, allowing her voice to invade his senses.

"Curse me, sold her

The poison that runs its course through her

Pale, white skin with

Strawberry gashes all over, all over

Watch me fault her,

You're living like a disaster.

She said kill me faster,

With strawberry gashes all over..."

Kirau was seemingly unaware of Ryuk's presence, much less the apple in her grip. It tumbled from her hands, rolling a few spaces across the floor as she sang on. Her eyes never wavered, never blinked, as they stared out at the drowning scenery beyond the glass. Their shade had gone from muddled aqua to a murky blue-grey.

"Called her over,

And asked her if she was improving.

She said, feels fine

It's wonderful, wonderful here...

Hex me, told her

I dreamt of a devil that knew her.

Pale, white skin with

Strawberry gashes all over, all over

Watch me fault her,

You're living like a disaster

She said kill me faster

With strawberry gashes all over, all over..."

Ryuk was hypnotized. With elbows resting on his knees, he sat in a pose reminiscent of hers in the air, taking in every last sorrow-dipped word, every last note of longing, every last syllable of anguish and despair. He couldn't get enough.

"I lay quiet,

Waiting for her voice to say

Some things you lose,

And some things you just give away

Scold me, failed her

If only I'd held on tighter

To her pale, white skin that

Twisted and withered away from me, away from me..."

By this point, the tears were falling in silent procession, one after the other down her snow white cheeks. Kirau did not halt her words, nor did she sniffle and choke; the tune went on, her voice oblivious to the emotional earthquake that was wracking her body. Ryuk gazed on in utter fascination, drawing closer to catch those last lines, watch those glimmering droplets progress down her scarred skin, in time with the rain outside.

"Watch me lose her

It's almost like losing myself.

Give her my soul

And let them take somebody else, get away from me

Watch me fault her,

You're living like a disaster

She said kill me faster

With strawberry gashes all over, all over me..."

And with that last trailing note, Kirau's eyes shut, and she fell over, body hitting the floor with a hard thud. Ryuk rushed over, completely lost as to what had just occurred. With a clawed hand, he gingerly picked the girl up by one thin arm, staring at the limp figure in his grasp.

Maybe she'd passed out due to lack of food? It was a possibility. Her diet was so damn erratic, and with the amounts she consumed, he was surprised that she was able to talk, much less walk and work. He sighed, before bringing her into his arms, and depositing her on her bed.

More tears. Just like the last time. There had been many tears in Light's world too, but he'd paid them no mind then. Now, though...lazily, a finger had reached out, to catch a stray drop upon its claw. Was it like rain? He brought it to his lips, sniffing before lapping at the substance. It was salty. Not sweet, like his apples. Not bland, like rainwater, when he'd bothered to try some on his last visit. He shook his head and turned away, in a hope to clear his head. When had he started bothering to care about her health, anyway?

If she croaks, I lose my entertainment. That's all. I want to make this last as long as possible, before I have to haul ass back to the Shinigami King and his army of drones. Ugh. He quickly cast a glowering glare out at the drenched setting beyond the grimy window.

...it's all for my benefit. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. I won't die for this; I just have to make sure none of the rest of those meat-sacks catch wind of what I'm up to. He hovered across the floor, passing through her door without a sound. He would still be within the vicinity; ergo, this wasn't breaking the rules of the contract.

"...mm..." As she shifted and twitched upon her pile of unwashed sheets, the sweater that hung from her fragile frame raised up slightly, sleeves revealing the tell-tale scars and slices embedded in her skin once more to the frozen air.

A/N: 'is gaping' HOLY SHIT. Wow, I fail. So freaking HARD. 'face palms at myself'

Yeah. It's been over TWO YEARS since I last updated this fic. I wouldn't be surprised if nobody bothered commenting on this installment; I took too damn long, and as such, a lack of audience is expected. 'sighs' And this one's even longer than usual, by at least two to three pages...

But. To those few who may be curious/interested, here's the lowdown:

Kirau and Ryuk's relationship is slowly, bit by bit, progressing further. Here, we get another brief look into Kirau's past, which I'm quite proud of myself for pumping out in the course of one night. ^^; Managed to work in the song from the beginning as well, though I must admit I'm not a big fan of using whole song lyrics in my stories. So I tried to space it out with some in-depth details as to what was going on in the background while Kirau was 'performing'. Hope it helps.

Yes, I fail at coming up with interesting Shinigami names. But I did enjoy writing out that bit of interaction among the Death Gods. They'll be mentioned again in future chapters, as Ryuk's exploits slowly become legendary in a whole new way. [Hope that doesn't spoil anything.]

If you're reading, and have any feedback for this fic, which I DO plan to finish, please, please, PLEASE send it my way! I'm always looking to improve and get better. It's been a while since I've played in 'DN' fandom, so I'm particularly worried about my characterizations [Ryuk's]. If it's off in any way, I'd like to know. :)

Alright, next time [because there WILL be a next time]: more development, hopefully more Death Note usage, and...some 'experimentation'. ;) See you later. Take care, everyone.

=^.^=