The Shinigami realm is a desolate expanse, filled with jagged, crumbling landscapes stretching beneath a sky thick with swirling, dark clouds. Shadows fall heavy over the rough, uneven ground, scattered with skeletal trees that twist and bend in unnatural shapes.

Faint, flickering lights hover in the distance—spirits, perhaps, or the remnants of souls—casting eerie glows against the murky atmosphere. Silence pervades the realm, broken only by a distant echo, as if the very air holds whispers.

It's all a part of the routine — Or at least that's what Ren Kuroda tells himself. For centuries he's been the ruler of this realm. Watching over souls during their last moments. Sending other reapers or Shinigami to collect them and bring them back to this realm. From time to time when he was bored he'd bring them himself.

He follows the rules of his order. And like any other day he opens his scrolls to find the name at the top. Your name. Okay, no big deal. He does what he normally does and follows you around for the week the scrolls say you have left. Seeing you attend classes, go to your favourite food places, how much you love the beach–

Okay now it's a big deal. Because he's never had less control over his feelings, ever. He feels inexplicably drawn to your kindness, forgiveness and resilience. Soon he realizes that he's breaking the ultimate rule. Allowing himself to care.

The feeling of being torn between his unwavering love for you, simply another mortal girl that needs to be disposed of and his duties as a Shinigami is an overwhelming feeling he craves to get rid of. He realizes that he doesn't want you to fall into the lake of forgotten souls. On the beach he hovers behind you. Watching as you watch the sunset go down after an eventful day.

"You're an idiot," he mutters under his breath as he rests a hand on your head. Knowing you can't hear or feel him now. He's supposed to be a guardian of death. Not one of love. The phrase holds no malice — It's his way of saying he loves you.