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It wasn’t supposed to matter to Shinigami why someone’s name ended up in the Death Note, but Misa was an open book. She told Rem everything as she wrote the names down, like writing in the Death Note was the same as afternoon tea.
“And we don’t like Inoue because of that time in kindergarten when he pulled my hair. I’d have gotten over it, of course, but then he flushed my friend’s goldfish when I cried.” Misa would kick her feet as she scribbled in the Death Note like a vindictive diary. It was more fun for Rem this time than it usually was.
She cared about Misa, the more she heard the reasons behind each person entering the Death Note. The girl had been through a lot, clearly cared about her friends, and somehow still wore a smile on her face. But there was always one person Misa never explained why they ended up in the Death Note.
It felt wrong to ask, so Rem just wondered silently to herself. What could someone have done that Misa would want them dead and never mention why? Misa wasn’t afraid, telling Rem the most serious and petty of reasons she put people’s names in the book. But this one man never had a story.
Rem started to understand when Misa got a boyfriend. The way she seemed to skirt around anything sexual, the effort it took to kiss the boy. Rem could see the struggle in the girl’s eyes, and she finally understood.
So, Rem was careful. She never did anything that would make Misa feel uncomfortable, was always a shoulder to cry on when boys ‘always were like the others’, and only touched Misa in places that wouldn’t scare the girl.
Graduation was strange for Rem. While Misa was getting ready, excitedly chattering about the success she had in high school, Rem could only nod with interest. She never had a high school life, and even if she had it would have been so long ago that Rem couldn’t remember it. At that moment she started to truly understand the differences between herself and Misa.
Misa was young, beautiful, could pull the attention of any man the girl wanted. Rem was a Shinigami, which allowed her a lot of power but not much more. She didn’t attract the other Shinigami, nor was she interested them romantically, and as far as humans go…
She couldn’t risk falling in love. Yet here she was, yearning for Misa from a distance.
“I really think you should get a social media account,” Misa says one night, looking up from her phone where she’s currently blogging about her tour. “I could tag you in all my posts.”
“Nobody knows I exist,” Rem points out, which just makes Misa laugh. “I don’t know what sort of social media presence I would have.”
“It’s not about whether or not people know you exist,” Misa tries to explain, but Rem feels like she doesn’t follow. She chalks it up to just a thing kids do these days that she’ll never understand.
Misa loves to say ‘I love you’ to all of her friends. Rem thinks it’s cute that kids these days throw the phrase around so easily. She remembers years ago, the last time she gave a human the Death Note, the phrase was avoided by anyone but a married couple- and even then they rarely spoke the phrase. Love was once as sacred a concept as death, and now it seems to be shared so freely. Rem thinks it’s cute, but it also means that it hurts a bit when Misa says ‘I love you’ to Rem.
There are times when Misa’s young age is more obvious than others. She’s impulsive- clearly noted by how she uses the Death Note so freely- and managing her money isn’t something that she seems to understand. Of course, Rem doesn’t have to worry about things like money, but she’s been around plenty of humans who have these concerns. It takes time, but she finally convinces Misa to start saving her money, and starts worrying about her future, too.
“I love that about you,” Misa grins after she finally saves up enough to buy a house. It doesn’t take long, with the girl’s popularity, but it took more than a couple of paychecks. “You’re so serious, like old people are!”
The phrase ‘old’ hurts. Technically she’s eternal, being a Shinigami, but compared to someone so young and full of life, it stings to think of herself as ‘old’.
“Lay in bed with me?” Misa asks after they move into the new house. Rem doesn’t have much to move, but she does help Misa with the work. There’s only one bed set up, since Rem doesn’t require a bed of her own. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Rem is nervous, arms shaking as they wrap around Misa. She’s careful not to touch the girl in a way to startle her, but Misa seems to find herself magnetically attracted to the Shinigami. “Stupid Ishiyama broke up with me,” she mumbles grumpily. “I want to write his name in the Death Note so badly!”
“Why don’t you?” Rem asks, reaching for the book on the side table. But Misa just grabs her arm and pulls her close, stopping her from getting the book.
“I don’t know,” Misa sighs. “It seems childish now, looking back on it. Maybe I should try giving the book a break.”
“If that’s your wish,” Rem says, stroking the girl’s long blonde hair. “The Death Note is yours to use.”
Misa just hums, adjusting so their bodies are pressed even closer together. “Why don’t you ever say you love me, Rem?”
“Love means a lot,” Rem tries to warn her delicately. “Just like the Death Note, there are things you can say that you can’t undo.”
“But I love you,” Misa pouts lightly. “Is that not enough?”
“You love a lot of people, Misa, and I think that’s beautiful,” Rem brushes Misa’s bangs out of her face. “You deserve so much love.”
“I’m not a child,” Misa tries to argue, but the pout makes it difficult. “I’m not some delicate thing. You can love me, you know, it won’t break me.”
“There are so many ways I’d want to love you,” Rem explains. “But there are scars on your heart, Misa, and I don’t want to rip open any old wounds.”
“I’m not a child,” Misa repeats. “You can love me however you want. I’m an adult, you know. Just because I’m so much younger doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about life.”
And Misa was right, Rem knew this. Perhaps, in the ways of love, Misa knew more than Rem did. There was trauma that Misa experienced that Rem would never understand, things that would never be a concern to Rem as an ancient Shinigami. But that trauma didn’t make Misa weak, if anything Misa was stronger in spite of it.
“Tell me if I ever love you wrong,” Rem whispers, adjusting Misa so that she’s laying on the bed, with Rem above her, arms caging the human in. Misa just smiles, reaching her hands up and exploring what gifts time has left on Rem’s body.
“I don’t think there’s a wrong way for you to love me,” Misa admits. “I just want to be loved by you.”
For an ancient being, Rem had little knowledge of sex, especially with humans. But that didn’t stop her from touching Misa, finding where she could make the girl mewl and purr. Finding what rhythm her tongue could dance to between Misa’s legs made the girl squeal. Finding exactly what Misa needed to feel truly loved.