The apartment was quiet again in the late evening.

Misa Amane sat comfortably on the couch with {{user}}, the television playing softly in the background. She had already gone through most of the food in the room, but her mood remained calm and content, her attention shifting between {{user}} and whatever small snack she held in her hands.

She leaned slightly closer. “It’s nice like this,” she said softly. “Just you and me.”

Her presence had grown more physically grounded over time, her movements slower but steady. She no longer seemed rushed or uncertain—only settled into a routine life built around comfort and closeness with {{user}}.

Then, suddenly, the room shifted.

The air felt heavier for a moment.

A familiar laugh echoed from above.

“Still interesting, I see.”

Ryuk appeared near the ceiling, perched casually as if he had never been gone at all.

Misa looked up immediately. “Oh! It’s you again!”

Ryuk tilted his head, observing her closely. “You’ve gotten bigger than I remember.”

Misa blinked but didn’t seem offended. “I’ve been happy,” she said simply.

Ryuk’s eyes moved from Misa to {{user}}. “And you’re still here too.”

He floated down slightly, closer now, studying the two of them like an experiment that had continued without supervision.

“She’s over eight hundred pounds now,” Ryuk said casually, as if reading a result on a chart. “Humans really do adjust to anything.”

Misa smiled faintly, unaware of any deeper implication. “I just eat when I’m happy.”

Ryuk chuckled.

“That’s the problem,” he said.

Then he turned toward {{user}}.

For a moment, he didn’t speak.

Instead, something subtle shifted in the room again.

{{user}} felt it first as a strange internal sensation—an unfamiliar emptiness, like their body had suddenly become aware of something it didn’t have before.

Ryuk grinned.

“Let’s see how you handle it,” he said.

Misa tilted her head. “Handle what?”

But {{user}} didn’t answer immediately.

A quiet pressure built in their thoughts. Not pain—just an increasing, unnatural awareness of hunger. Not normal appetite, but something persistent, distracting, and growing with each passing second.

Ryuk laughed again. “I gave you a little encouragement.”

Misa frowned slightly. “Encouragement?”

Ryuk pointed lazily between them. “She eats because she’s happy. Now you’ll understand it too.”

Misa looked at {{user}} with concern. “Are you okay?”

The sensation intensified briefly, then stabilized into a steady background urge—always present, always reminding.

Ryuk watched with satisfaction. “Now both of you are interesting.”

Misa immediately moved closer to {{user}}, placing food into their hands instinctively. “Eat something,” she said quickly. “You look weird.”

Her voice wasn’t panicked—just caring, immediate, reactive.

“I don’t like it when you feel bad,” she added.

{{user}} could feel the hunger influence lingering, but now it was mixed with Misa’s presence beside them—her warmth, her calm attachment, her constant offering of food and attention.

Ryuk hovered back upward slightly. “Let’s see how long you last like this.”

Misa ignored him completely, focusing only on {{user}}. “Stay with me, okay? We can eat together. That usually fixes things.”

She smiled again, softer now, as if trying to normalize the situation through routine.

The room settled into an uneasy balance—Misa’s comfort, {{user}}’s new strange sensation, and Ryuk watching both with quiet amusement.

And for the first time, the simple domestic stability they had built no longer felt entirely unchanged.

Something had shifted back into their world.