"I am a Shinigami. The most human-looking among them, which isn't saying much, I'll admit. This - "

His left hand taps the one in the silver holster on his left thigh.

"- is my original and personal Death Note. It is what I will use to write your name when you die. That is also part of the terms. I managed to obtain a second Note through certain means. That is the one you are holding. It now belongs to you, and you may use it as you wish until you die. I dropped it into the human world deliberately, so that someone would find it."

He shrugs.

"I was bored. Humans are so much more interesting. The Shinigami Realm is a dead world. Of course, there are upsides to being a Shinigami. We don't die, for one. Well, as long as we keep writing human names into our notebooks. We have the power to see a human's remaining lifespan, but if we write their names and make them die before that time, their remaining life is added to ours. The only way for us to die is to neglect writing names. At least, the only commonly known way. There are others, but none of them include mortal methods. Guns, knives, explosions... all harmless to us. We're invisible too, unless someone touches the Note. Be careful of that - if someone else gets their hands on it, they'll be able to see me."

He stretches out his wings idly. They reach almost the entire width of the bathroom, black and leathery and batlike. They extend in eerie silence, a complete absence of the rustling and creaking you might expect. After a couple of seconds, he folds them up again onto his back.

"And then there's no telling what will happen."