The scene unexpectedly shifts from Light to Aruto and Ryuk, the Shinigami. Aruto's screen time seems to be increasing as he forces himself to remain calm, pretending to act in character. Over the past few days, he has been contemplating how to present himself. Aruto concluded that appearing as an enigmatic, knowledgeable character would best play to his strengths. Since he knows the future plot and has no deeper ties to the world as a native, he’s a free agent of the plot.

Sometimes he wondered who might be watching—perhaps some deities or ordinary humans in a simple parallel universe. It was never clarified, and Aruto wasn’t sure if he would ever know. Right now, he was an actor adopting a new mindset, staring at an incarnation of death who had descended mere breaths away. Heavy winds blew around them.

"You left me waiting, Mr. Shinigami... Ryuk." Honestly, Aruto wasn’t sure if he should let it be known that he already knew Ryuk's name; however, perhaps being nervous caused him to say it anyway. With a soft, though slightly tense, smile, he greeted Ryuk.

A rough, crackling laugh grated on Aruto’s ears. “Hoo—so there’s a human who knows my name? What kind of mortal are you?” Ryuk’s grin almost literally reached both ears.

Rubbing his temple with one hand, Aruto laughed quietly, though it was still a little forced. “I wish to make a deal. Half my life for the eyes of a Shinigami!”

Ryuk let out an even louder crackle, surprised. “Not only does a human know my name, but they also know about the eyes… yet, you don’t have a book.”

Aruto's concern grew as Ryuk's rough laughter continued, fearing that Light might overhear. Eventually, the laughter quieted, and Ryuk's face turned serious. He seemed to be looking deeply at something without a word.

“What are you?” Ryuk eventually broke the tense silence, staring at Aruto. “You don’t have a lifespan… never born?”

Not expecting that reply, Aruto remained silent, lost in troubled thought. However, Ryuk continued speaking.

“No… you’re no human. You’re a Shinigami in human form—no… Hmm.” Ryuk spoke his thoughts aloud, “Perhaps the old man shall judge you.”

Aruto, not wishing to experience such an unknown variable, quickly chimed in, “I’m a human. He doesn’t need to judge a mortal like me. Besides, isn’t this what you came for? An interesting surprise?”

Ryuk, still unsure but also amused, replied, “Hehehe—you’re right. But I can’t give you the eyes because you’re not the owner. Even if you were, I can’t tell if I can accept the deal.”

With a quick gleam in his eye, Aruto quipped, “But you’d try if I were the owner? So I only need the book.”

Aruto raised a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. “Then I’ll be back,” he said, giving a quick wink and a smile. He turned around and walked away, disappearing around the corner.

'Damn, so I need to somehow steal that book back temporarily, make the deal, and then return it without Light noticing,' Aruto thought, racking his brain on how to complete such a tall order.

[Fans +1100] | [Screen Time: 28%]

A new notification appeared, leaving Aruto, who was deep in thought, stunned. The sheer number of new fans was the largest amount by far. Despite there not being a deal, it appeared that his presence was significantly impacting the storyline for the audience. It was only about halfway through the first episode, and with 28% of screen time, this meant he had been on screen for about three and a half minutes so far.

With this evaluation, Aruto likely appeared as the secondary main character. Perhaps the audience and even Light might end up mistaking him for L. While Aruto was deep in thought again, another scene unfolded in Light's bedroom only a few minutes later than it was originally planned.

Light sat at his desk, reading through his notes. Suddenly, he felt an eerie presence behind him. Turning around, he saw the towering figure of Ryuk, the Shinigami. Shocked and terrified, Light fell from his chair, staring up at the grinning figure.

Ryuk let out a low chuckle, enjoying Light's reaction. "Don't be afraid. I'm Ryuk. I'm the one who dropped that notebook you found."

Light, still on the floor, tried to compose himself. "A Shinigami... So it's real."

Ryuk nodded, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Yes, it's real. I'm surprised. You've used it so much already. Most people would be too scared to even try it."

Light stood up slowly, his initial fear giving way to curiosity and determination. "I knew it was real from the moment I started using it. The power it holds is incredible."

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Ryuk's grin widened. "You’re a fascinating human, Light Yagami. I've seen many people use the Death Note, but none quite like you. And now, there are two unique individuals for me to watch."

Light looked puzzled. "Two?"

Ryuk nodded, a mysterious glint in his eye. "Yes, there's another human out there, someone just as interesting as you. This is going to be very entertaining."

Light's mind raced. "Another person with a Death Note?"

Ryuk shrugged. "Not exactly, my bad I wasn’t supposed to say."

Light's determination hardened. "It doesn't matter. I'll use the Death Note to create a new world, a world where I am the god. No one will stand in my way."

Ryuk chuckled again, his laughter echoing through the room. "We'll see, Light. We'll see."

Aruto stood in front of his new home, a modest but comfortable house just a couple of blocks away from Light’s residence. He felt a mix of disappointment and relief—disappointed that he hadn’t discovered this place earlier, but relieved to finally have a home.

As he walked through the front door, Aruto took in the surroundings. The house was furnished, though sparsely, with everything he might need. He wandered through the rooms, letting the reality sink in.

“It’s not much, but it’s mine,” he murmured to himself, a small smile playing on his lips.

Settling down in the living room, Aruto began to think about his next steps. The recent events had set the stage for a complex game, and he needed to stay ahead if he wanted to influence the storyline effectively. His thoughts drifted back to his encounter with Ryuk and the implications of having to obtain the Death Note from Light.

Aruto’s mind raced as he strategized. He needed to keep his actions subtle and his presence under the radar, all while continuing to shape his persona. The notifications about his increasing screen time and fanbase reassured him that he was on the right path, but the stakes were high if he wanted to come out with something significant.

"I need to stay cautious," Aruto thought. "Every move I make could tip the balance. I have to blend in, observe, and only act when the moment is perfect."

As the sun began to set, painting in warm tones the neighborhood hue, he saw his screen time notification go down to 14%, marking the end of the first episode. He sighed, feeling the weight of his new reality settling in. Since he had some time to be on his own, Aruto took it as an opportunity to wander around his new home a little more and started to observe every detail of the minimally decorated, standard Japanese house.

Sitting in the living room, Aruto thought about his meeting with Ryuk and the challenge before him. "So, the Death Note is in a drawer," he thought. "Light probably thinks it's safe there, but complacency is my ally." Suddenly, when it struck him, he still had his shoes on—a cultural faux pas for an authentic Japanese home. "Even alone, I should blend in culturally," he mused.

He rose from his seat and returned to the entryway, or genkan. Lying against the wall was a wooden shoe rack and a few pairs of simple, indoor slippers. Stepping out of his shoes to replace them with the indicated pair of slippers, he felt the coolness of the floor. "An actor in the Death Note universe," he repeated this mantra.

In the living room, tradition mixed with the modern hit his eyes. First, he was struck by the sight of the big, low wooden table with cushions on the floor. The tatami under gave off a soft, reassuring smell of straw. The ever-moving sliding shoji doors made it look older; the paper screens dimmed the evening sunlight just right, causing the soft shadows to be cast around blurred. "I need to steal that notebook as soon as I can before Light takes greater measures, it will only get harder as time passes," he thought.

On one side of the living area was a small, neatly arranged kitchen. In all, it had all the essentials: refrigerator, gas stove, sink, and a few cupboards. Aruto opened the cupboards and found dishes and utensils - not many in number, a basic set, enough to get by but nothing fancy. The counters were clean, except for a tiny rice cooker and an electric kettle. He filled the kettle with water and set it to boil, thinking it would be nice to finish the day off with a cup of tea.

The small eating area off the kitchen held a plain wooden table with two chairs. A small artwork of a pleasant landscape was nailed on the wall and lighted the place with color. Aruto could distinctly feel that he could sit here in the morning and have a relaxing tea, hatching his next scheming. "I could just cut class tomorrow," he thought, "then I would have the time I wanted."

The bathroom was divided into two parts, and it was the same for most Japanese. The toilet was separately located and had its door separately. It was modern, with a bidet and heated seat. Beside it was the bathing area, which comprised a small room that had a washing sink and a washing machine; beside it, a door opening to the shower and deep soaking tub. Aruto appreciated the sparsity in the arrangement. He looked forward to wallowing in the bath during these days of hatching his plans. "I need to be careful. Light is sharp, but everyone has blind spots."

On the second floor, Aruto discovered two thin bedrooms. In one of them, a folded futon was already spread out on the tatami, furnished with a quiet wardrobe and a small bedside table—a single light gave off a nice ambiance. The other bedroom was empty except for a fixed wardrobe. It seemed like a perfect place to store anything he might bring home later. He lay back on the futon, sensing the supportiveness of the mattress. Once more, it was far from the sumptuousness one might wish for, but it sufficed.

Aruto returned to the first floor and made himself a mug of hot tea. He sat cross-legged at a low table in the living area, sipping slowly. The house allowed him to ease, to plot, to think through, to filch such rare moments of calm as he knew the future parts of the series would not afford. "It's the deadline tomorrow," he gently nudged himself in a reminder. "I sneak in, take the Death Note, and slip out before anyone notices. It must be perfect."

With his outline formulated for the next day, Aruto excused himself, went upstairs, put on a yukata he found in the closet, and lay down on the futon. As he got under the duvet and arranged himself, his mind rejigged strategies and contingencies. But the comfort of the futon and the quiet of the house soon lulled him to sleep.