“i want you to write my name in your death note,” you say quietly, fingers swishing around the water’s surface to echo ripples across the bathtub, “if they catch me.”

rem’s mind stutters to a stop, and her jaw clicks open.

“..what?” she mutters, hovering closer and dragging a claw up your arm slowly, “your name? why not theirs?”

“because,” you hum, “you’ll die if you save me.”

rem pauses. she frowns, settling on the edge of your bathtub with her skeletal wings folded in itself. you’re right, she knows that.

but she’s been admiring you for so long, she developed some sort of affection for you. the same kind gelus had when he died for you. rem couldn’t just watch her pretty little human die.

“i won’t do that,” rem responds flatly. she watches you with an observing eye, watches the way you scrub your skin and the way you flick soap suds at rem. except, they don’t land on her. they splatter against the wall behind her in messy droplets— again, she is reminded that she is a shinigami. not a human like you.

and shinigamis don’t love humans.

“i won’t,” rem repeats, muttering under her breath.