Ijemaru was kicked back on his bed, writing the names of American criminals in his Death Note (it brought him a strange, sadistic satisfaction to claim the same types of victims as the original Kira), when he was rudely interrupted. All of a sudden he saw some sort of demonic creature in his room. The thing was a true terror, with black leathery skin pulled tight against its bones, sunken eyes, and no lips so that its teeth looked over-sized and skull-like. Additionally, ragged, dark, leathery wings sprouted from between its shoulder blades, and it stood at almost seven feet tall; lanky and demonic. Ijemaru did a double take in surprise, and something like fear, then his expression relaxed in understanding. "I bet this is yours," he said holding up the Death Note. After all, where else would such a weapon of killing come from than a Shinigami, a god of death?

The creature smiled, "Yup, you seem to have taken a liking to it," he said. His voice was low; smooth, but still a bit raspy. He sounded like the dead or the dying, just more cheerful, oddly enough. "Name's Zans. You do realize that people are really dying when you write their names in there, right?"

Ijemaru laughed lightly, having already adjusted to the idea of a death god standing in his home, "Of course I know that," he said. "I wouldn't still be writing if nothing was happening."

"Well I wanted someone who would kill, but I never expected someone with so little empathy for their own kind."

"So you must be a Shinigami right?" asked the boy.

"That's right," said Zans, "And I've gotta stay with you until either you die or relinquish your rights to the Death Note. Of course if you do that, I'd have no choice but to erase your memories of it." He wagged a long-nailed finger in a menacingly playful way, “Can't have outsiders spreading secrets, you know.”

"Well, I'm not giving it up,” Ijemaru said confidently, “And I don't plan on dying any time soon." He paused to think for a moment. "During the time of the original Kira there was a second Kira who could kill with just a face. Can I have that power?"

Zans laughed a hollow laugh. "You're talking about the Shinigami eye deal," he said. "I could give you the eyes of a Shinigami, so you would know a person's name and natural lifespan just by looking at them. But in exchange I'd get to take half your life span for myself."

"Deal," Ijemaru said instantly.

"Wh- really? Did you even hear what I said?" the Shinigami asked, surprisingly flustered for an invulnerable being.

"Of course," said Ijemaru, "I'm still young, I'll have plenty of time to be entertained before half of my life is over. But just out of curiosity, how much longer will I live as things stand?"

"Why should I tell you that?" Zans asked mockingly.

"Because if you don't, I just won't make the deal and you'll be stuck with me for that much longer. As well as you'd be robbing yourself of a good 40 plus years added to your life. Am I right?"

"Fine," said Zans, "You'd naturally live to be 97, so I'd get forty years from you and you'd only live to be 57"

"I'm fine with that," said Ijemaru, "I'll just have a kid along the way and pass the Death Note on to them before I die. Lucky you, you'll have generations of fun," he said, and suddenly Zans felt like he'd been cheated somehow, "Now let's make that deal."