Chapter Text
It was several minutes later when Watari finally pulled up in front of headquarters. L was uncertain of the precise time due to keeping a close eye on Light; the teenager’s skin had paled considerably, contrasting heavily with the dark bruises still present along his nose and jaw. His eyes had a glassy appearance. This kid was obviously not alright; physically or mentally. Still, regardless of the current circumstances, L had to be absolutely certain that Light wasn’t Kira before he could drop him as a suspect.
Though I doubt this is an act, thought L, his gaze fixated on the boy beside him. If it is then Light is pretty dedicated to the role he’s playing.
L hated this. Hated feeling genuine concern. In such a short time, L had grown too close to his suspect, and it was beginning to scare him; he knew risks and had fucked up anyway. L quickly pushed those feelings aside. He had to continue this investigation, and he had to do so with a clear head; unobstructed by emotions. There’s no room for sympathy.
As much as he wanted to, L couldn’t completely clear Light from the list of suspects. There were too many other unanswered questions surrounding him. Light was the only one on the bus that Raye Penber was investigating, so why would one of the other two suspects kill that particular agent? But looking at Light as a suspect was strange as well. Raye Penber had cleared him as a suspect prior to his death. And Light’s mother dying went against Kira’s current modus operandi. Could Sachiko dying from heart complications be a coincidence? Was it natural? Or was it Kira? And if so, why? Was it because Soichiro was on the investigation team? And does that mean that Genbu Sakota and Sachiko were being controlled prior to death? But Kira had targeted only the FBI agents; not their families. Why the change?
Uhhh! All these convoluted thoughts and theories are giving me a headache, thought L; rubbing at his throbbing temples. There must be some sort of plan here; one that has likely gone disastrously wrong.
Was there more than one person with Kira’s powers? And if so, which ones are doing which killings? Light could still potentially be one of the Kiras then. And if he is, could he be the only one that possesses cellular regenerative abilities and pyrokinesis? If so, then that may explain the inconsistencies. A 2nd Kira might be trying to kill the 1st Kira along with his family. But, then again, how come most of them are still alive?
L had a nagging feeling that none of his questions would be answered tonight and that all of his current hypotheses were wrong in some way or another. Well, he certainly had a long list of questions for Soichiro, regardless. L knew that man definitely had his secrets.
“We’ve arrived back at headquarters,” announced Watari, as he pulled into a spot directly in front of the building.
L waited for Light to respond, but he didn’t. At least, not immediately. Watari had opened the door on his side, and Light had still not moved a muscle.
That hundred-yard stare is starting to creep me out, thought L as he stared into those glassy orbs. Oh, well… if this boy is going to break, I may as well be the one who causes it.
“Light-kun. Are you still there?” teased L, half-heartedly nudging the teenager’s arm with his foot. “It’s time to get out.”
Light looked around confused, seeming to only just now click in that they had come to a stop. He didn’t even seem to comprehend that it was L’s foot that was currently poking him.
“We’re at headquarters,” continued L, as he shoved Light out the door; causing the teen to fall down into an undignified heap on the sidewalk.
Watari quickly moved to help Light up. The old man gave L a disapproving look. L just shrugged in response. Truthfully, he did feel a little bit bad about causing Light to fall, but he hadn’t expected the younger man to be so disoriented. Of course, all things considered, it shouldn’t have been such a surprise.
Meanwhile, Light tried to croak out a ‘thank you’ to Watari. Light immediately hissed in pain; it felt like his throat was on fire. Though this was quickly forgotten as he caught sight of headquarters.
Is L seriously renting a studio apartment here? In this neighbourhood? Doing what he does? questioned Light, confused. Wouldn’t the other residents here wonder why there are gatherings of several men at his apartment every day? He could easily be confused for a dealer. And that’s not really a great way of staying off Kira’s radar.
“I purchased the whole compound until another building can be built,” explained L, as he led Light towards the entrance. Light briefly wondered whether he was simply that easy to read or if L was a mind-reader. “Watari said it would be simpler and less conspicuous than moving from hotel room to hotel room.”
Light croaked in agreement, even though he was now concerned about an L without a Watari; the old man drove for him, mentored him, and, according to Light’s father, cooked for him.
A frightening thought suddenly occurred.
SAYU! I don’t know where she is! thought Light, panicking when he couldn’t find his phone. I don’t want her coming home to find a crime scene. I need to find her!
Everyone watched helplessly as Light tried to communicate. He could only manage a few pained sounds that couldn’t even be considered words. At least, for Light, this confirmed that L couldn’t read his mind; that was both a relief and a bit disappointing. Light made a note-to-self that it might be a good idea to learn sign language after tonight. Though that wouldn’t do much to help him now.
Giving up on trying to vocalize his thoughts, Light looked around before spotting a piece of chalk next to a hop-scotch game. Using the chalk, Light wrote:
‘Where’s Sayu? Mom said she was at a sleepover but didn’t specify where.’
“It’s alright, Mr. Yagami,” replied Watari, adjusting his glasses. “I grabbed your mother’s phone from the personal belongings box,” Watari then rested his hand on Light’s shoulder in a comforting gesture, which caused him to immediately flinch. “I’ll look into the call history and find out where your sister is. In the morning, I’ll have her brought here.”
Light nodded in agreement, even though he didn’t want Watari (and by extension, L) to have access to his mother’s phone. It felt oddly invasive. It was still better than his phone; he didn’t like the idea of L browsing through his internet history. It took a few moments of concentration to remember that he had left his phone on the counter next to the stove. Light then realized that it was likely that either L or one of his associates had it, and that it was only a matter of time before he had it thoroughly searched.
Still, regardless of the lost phone, Light felt a little better knowing that the rest of his family was safe; though now that he felt safe, he felt like he was going to cry. His mother was gone. She had raised him and supported him and had taught him so many important life skills. Like good study habits, cooking, sewing… he used to love mending and creating different garments with her. This may be even one of the reasons he liked being around Madam Trevi so much. The last time he had done any of that with his mother was over four years ago; prior to starting high school.
How had we grown so far apart? thought Light, regretfully. I want my Mom back. I was cheated. Cheated out of so much time with her; time that both Sayu and I still needed.
Light could feel the sobs that threatened to burst forth; his chest felt so tight it hurt. But he still had his pride; therefore, he decided that he could wait until he was alone to give in to the instinct to curl up and cry.
~~~~~~~~~
Matsuda walked out into the lobby. He was expected to make another coffee run for the team; he truly hated how everyone treated him like an over-paid intern.
Before Matsuda could exit the building, he was stopped by a ghostly hand. This particular ghost was mute, and by the time he had learned ASL, the ghost had decided to introduce herself simply as Ghost. Ghost had been with him throughout his entire life; she’s the only person that has. His mother died giving birth to him, and the last time he saw his father was on his seventh birthday. Growing up, he had been shipped off to a different family members’ house every few years. No one really wanted anything to do with him. It wasn’t until he met Mogi and Soichiro that he felt like he mattered to anyone who was living.
So while Matsuda had never truly spent a considerable amount of time with Soichiro’s wife and children, he already felt as though they were his family, too. Soichiro was the only one who ever talked to him with any fondness or respect. Even though he was still reprimanded on occasion by him, he was never treated like he was somehow defective. And even though Soichiro refused to acknowledge Matsuda’s claims of being able to see spirits, he never called him a liar. The last time he had tried to talk with him about it, he had said it was best to keep quiet about such things. And Matsuda did follow the older man’s advice. To keep his interactions with the dead a secret from the living.
Looking at the ghost, he watched her hands sign for him to look out the window. Matsuda followed the direction of Ghost’s finger and looked out the window just left of the front door. He saw that Ryuzaki and Watari were back and that they had brought Light with them. Matsuda then did a double take as he took in the teen’s disheveled appearance and heavily bruised face.
What the hell happened?! thought Matsuda, shocked. The Chief is going to be so pissed with Ryuzaki, if he did this.
Matsuda watched as Watari led the teenager toward the building a moment longer. He then hastily ran back to where the other task force members were, deciding that he should alert the Chief. He almost slipped on the floor in his haste, but quickly caught his balance. He practically barged through the door of the room the task force was in.
“Matsuda, what did you forget this time?” groaned Aizawa, sounding more than a little pissed off.
“Ryuzaki and Watari are back, and they brought Light with them,” answered Matsuda, ignoring Aizawa’s question in favour of informing Soichiro of recent happenings.
“What do you mean by ‘they brought light’?” asked Aizawa, in a biting tone.
“Light is the Chief’s son,” explained Matsuda, knowing that only he, Misora, and Mogi had ever met Soichiro’s son in person.
Truth be told, everyone in the department may have already known of Soichiro’s kid as a genius and occasional NPA employee, but not many had ever gotten to know him on a personal level; with the exception of Mogi. For almost everyone present, he was known simply as the Chief’s son.
“Really, Chief? You named your son Light,” criticized Aizawa, before pulling up the case file on the Yagami family; investigating your boss certainly had its benefits. “And here I thought his name was Tsuki… Oh, wait, there’s a furigana. Okay, well, apparently when written, it uses the Japanese kanji for Moon, but has the English pronunciation for Light. Who names their kid like that? That’s weird and oddly pretentious.”
“Can you just shut your mouth, Aizawa?” muttered Ide, irritably. “I have tried to be understanding of your attitude, but enough is enough. You have been instigating fight after fight, and now you want to start one with the Chief over something so stupid… Well, you may want to remember that the Chief is not Matsuda. Therefore you may want to reconsider your actions.”
“Thanks for the support, Ide,” said Matsuda, sarcastically before sighing in exasperation. “I get absolutely no respect from anyone.”
“Maybe if you weren’t such a moron-” began Aizawa before being cut off by another reprimand from Ide.
“Whatever happened to professionalism?”
“You think you're better than everyone?” huffed Aizawa.
“Not everyone,” replied Ide, crossing his arms. “Just you.”
“WHAT!”
“Uh, I’m done with this!” exclaimed Ukita, moving towards the door. He stopped at the doorway and turned towards Matsuda. “You stay; I’ll go get coffee. I’ll be back in about a half hour or so… maybe.”
~~~~~~~~~
Soichiro focused on taking deep, calming breaths as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. There’s less than ten people on this investigation, and yet none of them can get along for more than five minutes. For the past few weeks, everyone was either fighting amongst each other or deciding to leave for indeterminate amounts of time. Their chances of solving the Kira case weren’t looking good if things continued deteriorating like this. For the last month, Kira supporters had been growing larger and louder than ever. And between that and the stress that came with facing an unknown deadly power, it was bringing out the worst in all of them.
Soichiro understood all that. He hadn’t exactly been at his best lately, either. There was just so much speculation on his son, which had left him fraught with anxiety. This had led to him distancing himself from his son more and more. Soichiro wanted to believe in Light’s innocence, but truthfully he wasn’t sure how well he truly knew him. Between the two of them, bonding has never been easy; Soichiro was always too busy and Light too independent.
And whether his Light was proven to be Kira or not, Soichiro was certain that the bond between father and son was too shattered to ever be mended. If his son was proven guilty, he’d have to put him behind bars. And if proven innocent, Soichiro knew that this’d be the final straw that broke the camel’s back. As of now, every time Soichiro looked into his son’s eyes, all he saw was distrust and sadness.
“Matsuda,” said Soichiro, warily beckoning the younger detective over. “Why did Ryuzaki bring Light here?
“I don’t know, Chief,” replied Matsuda, nervously as he realized how this may affect Soichiro as well as his lack of information; he looked over to Ghost, who only shrugged her shoulders in reply. “But your son appeared to be quite injured… possibly by Ryuzaki… and I, um… thought you deserved to know that.”
A flash of anger ran through Soichiro’s veins, but he quickly pushed it down. He’d wait until he could look into the situation for himself before jumping to conclusions.
~~~~~~~~~
Matsuda looked on in concern as Soichiro bolted out of the room.
Ide and Aizawa stared at Soichiro’s retreating back in confusion. They had obviously not been paying attention; having been so caught up in their own argument.
“And they call me stupid,” muttered Matsuda, still loud enough to be heard. “At least, I have some awareness of what is going on.”
Considering that Ukita is probably not coming back anytime soon, I better go get that coffee, thought Matsuda as he left headquarters.
~~~~~~~~~
All noise seemed to cease as Soichiro burst into the room. He immediately spotted Light. He was sitting on a medical table; Soichiro briefly wondered why or how that was there. All thoughts were immediately overshadowed when he caught sight of the deep bruising on Light’s face and neck, and the blood-soaked clothes that were partially covered up by L’s overly large jacket. As for why Light was wearing L’s jacket, Soichiro didn’t know, but that didn’t really matter at the moment; his son was hurt, and someone had some explaining to do.
“RYUZAKI! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON?” yelled Soichiro, grabbing L roughly by his shirt.
“Mr. Yagami, there is no need for such aggression, so please calm yourself,” requested Watari, politely. “We have a fair bit to discuss with you.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Before Watari could provide Soichiro with a delicate explanation of his wife’s recent passing, L interrupted; displaying a complete lack of tact.
“There was a home invasion at your place of residence several hours ago. Your son was injured during the attack, and your wife died,” explained L, very quickly and very bluntly. “The attackers had burst into flames. Only one of the attackers had died; his heart stopped. This is also something your wife had succumbed to as well. I suspect it was caused by Kira.”
“Sachiko is dead,” said Soichiro, his grip going slack in shock. “And you are only telling me this now?”
“I apologize, but I was rather preoccupied,” replied L, placing his hands in his pockets. “And really, what would you have done? Pointlessly run off to the hospital. You couldn’t have prevented Sachiko-chan’s death simply by being there.”
“Pointlessly,” repeated Soichiro, with barely contained hostility. “How dare you? You have denied me my final moments with her and-”
“You wouldn’t have gotten that time anyway,” said L, curtly without a hint of empathy. “She was already dead.”
Before Soichiro had a chance to reply, Watari interrupted. He realised that Soichiro was hurt and angry, and L was… being L. Watari knew he needed to diffuse the situation before someone got hurt.
“Listen, Mr. Yagami. Ryuzaki may not be entirely right in this scenario,” interrupted Watari, in a placating tone. “But there was nothing you could have done. And at no point did she regain consciousness after her initial collapse,” Watari noticed how Light winced at his statements; the teenager seemed to be experiencing a bunch of misplaced guilt over his mother’s death. “I am sincerely sorry for your loss, Mr. Yagami, but I have to take a look at your son’s injuries. This means I can’t have you and Ryuzaki fighting; not here.”
Soichiro exhaled loudly through his nostrils as he completely loosened his grip on L’s shirt. He and Watari then assisted Light in removing his jacket and shirt.
Watari was glad the shirt Light was wearing was a button-down. It was clear that Light could not raise his arms without severe discomfort.
Looking at Light’s bared torso, he could clearly see that there were definitely some broken ribs. Watari was very quick and thorough with his examination; he became unnerved when one of Light’s broken ribs snapped back into place of its own accord. Light gasped out in pain; his voice wasn’t very loud, but it sounded clearer and less strained. That was a good sign, at least.
When Watari gave Light a decongestant and numbing medication, the teenager looked at the old man confused.
“I’m going to do a direct fiber-optic laryngoscopy,” explained Watari, while Light cringed. “That requires sending a scope up your nose and down into your throat.”
“Why does he need this done?” asked Soichiro, as Watari prepped Light for the procedure.
“He had drain cleaner injected into his voice box. So I’m going to see what damage has been done to the area,” explained Watari, as he inserted the laryngoscope; Light looked like he was having difficulty in suppressing the urge to gag.
Watari furrowed his brow as he examined the inside of Light’s throat.
“Well, it seems like he is healing up quite nicely,” informed Watari, cheerily. “He should be all mended by tomorrow, which is unusually fast. But still, that’s a good thing. Right, Mr. Yagami?”
~~~~~~~~~
Upon hearing the news of Light’s miraculous recovery, Soichiro was hesitant to say anything. But it’d be strange if he didn’t.
“Of course it is,” said Soichiro, reluctantly. It’s not like he wanted his son to suffer permanent injuries, but he also didn’t want him drawing unnecessary attention to himself.
People fear what they don’t understand, and the innocent suffer for it. Soichiro had to witness that suffering once before and vowed to never let it happen again.
Soichiro was drawn out of those thoughts when he heard Light gagging as Watari removed the laryngoscope. It was a very gross and painful sound, and he couldn’t help but wince in sympathy.
Soichiro reached out and placed his hand on the side of Light’s face, pushing some of the hair away from his eyes. It was supposed to be a comforting gesture, something he often did whenever Light seemed distressed. So, Soichiro was taken aback by the flash of fear that briefly appeared in Light’s eyes. Before Soichiro could ask him about it, L had decided to interrupt them at that moment.
“Is Light-kun adopted?” asked L, insensitively. “Afterall, Light is quite different in looks than the rest of his family.”
~~~~~~~~~
Light was completely taken aback by L’s coldness. How could he ask such a question? Light could already guess what L was doing, but he was still thrown off by the inappropriateness of it. Light had heard many people ask that same question before, but they’d never done it with him in the room and most certainly not after suffering from a traumatic event like this.
But L thinks I’m Kira, thought Light, morosely. He wants to know if a lack of a familial connection may have aided me, his suspect, in killing my mom. He thinks what happened tonight was some big gambit.
Light knew L wasn’t really his friend, but for most of the day Light had started to feel like he was. So, it was quite jarring when L went back to treating him like a suspect.
Light couldn’t help feeling betrayed. He was upset that L was doing this just after his mom had died.
He really thinks I’m responsible for it, realised Light. That just because I’m not related to her through blood, I’d just kill her in cold blood?
Though in the end, Light couldn’t be too mad at L… Soichiro looked to be plenty mad for the both of them. Light really would not want to be L at the moment, as he watched his dad’s face contorted in barely suppressed anger.
“No, he isn’t, and even if he was, it wouldn’t matter,” replied Soichiro through gritted teeth. “Why would you even ask a question like that? Do you honestly think this is a good time to be doing this?”
Before L had a chance to respond, Watari interrupted before he could escalate the situation again.
“Mr. Yagami, you can take the rest of tonight and tomorrow off,” said Watari, gently. He and L shared a look before continuing. “You’ll need to work on funeral arrangements. And of course, you’ll want additional time off to sort out your grief.”
Light watched L sigh in defeat. He was almost certain L had pushed far worse boundaries before, so why was Watari insisting on exercising caution here? Some instinct told Light this was not a usual occurrence.
“Watari, can you take Light-kun upstairs to room seven? He’ll probably want to rest,” L turned back to Soichiro. “I’m going to conduct a more thorough examination of your house, so I’ll be providing a room for your family to stay in for the meantime.”
As Watari guided Light upstairs, he heard further bickering continue between Soichiro and L. Light wanted to say something, but was quickly reminded of his injured throat. It wasn’t long before they reached a bedroom.
It wasn’t until he managed to climb into bed, that Light finally realised how exhausted he was. He was only vaguely aware of Watari’s presence; it was only when he started to sing that Light furrows his brows in confusion. Why was Watari singing at him? Also, why was it such a familiar tune? Even outside of recognizing it as ‘Optimistic Voices’ from ‘The Wizard of Oz’, it was oddly familiar.
♪“You’re out of the woods, you’re out of the dark, you’re out of the night,”♪ Watari sings; Light found it soothing, though most would likely find it creepy. ♪“Step into sun, step into the light. Keep straight ahead for the most glorious place on the face of the Earth and the sky. Hold onto your breath, hold onto your heart, hold onto your hope.”♪
Light doesn’t really have time to analyze the familiarity of the tune Quillish was singing before drifting off into a deep sleep.
Start of Light’s Dream
Light was standing on the balcony of an apartment somewhere in Tokyo. Or at least he thought it was Tokyo; there was a magenta coloured fog that obscured any sort of recognisable landmark. As he moved to go inside, he caught sight of his reflection; the fox ears were back.
“Seriously,” groaned Light, pulling at his now reoccurring ear problem; he thought this was an issue that only occurred in anime. Well, at least it’s only a dream, though it’s still plenty weird. “I’m going to have to suffer through this again.”
With no other option, than to maybe jump off this twelfth-story balcony, Light decided to enter into the spacious living room of someone's apartment . The place’s layout was very open, so when he saw Kiyomi Takada, he quickly ducked out of sight behind the kitchen counter.
Honestly, the conversation he had with L earlier today (or was it yesterday by now?) had him feeling rightfully paranoid. For the first time, Light genuinely considered the possibility that he could actually be entering other people's subconscious mind through dreams. It wasn’t really such an outrageous idea, considering the fact that there was a killer out there using people’s names and/or faces to kill them. So when he saw Takada he decided to hide, so as to avoid any potential awkwardness.
W hen Takada started crying, Light immediately felt like he was trespassing on a very intimate level. This was not a good situation to be in.
Before Light could come up with an escape plan, the world around him began to crumble and peel. Words began carving themselves into the walls near Takada. Light crawled over to the opposite end of the counter to get a better look.
To Takada’s right, the words read, ‘That bitch. Nishiyama doesn’t deserve her position as anchorwoman’. The words above her read, ‘I, as a true journalist, get overlooked in favour of her. Nishiyama only got where she is by lying on her back’. And finally the words to her left simply read, ‘Demegawa is a pig’.
Light wholeheartedly agrees with that last statement. He knew Takada worked as a newscaster at Sakura TV. He even remembers her mentioning how she was totally dedicated to her journalism career and that she would be in line for promotion soon. Well, that obviously didn’t happened as planned.
There was very little Light and Takada could ever agree on, but… Demegawa really does deserve to be butchered like the pig he is. The image of Demegawa hanging from a meat hook with his guts hanging out made him smile. This revenge fantasy had also grown to include Shibuimaru and the rest of his gang.
It was then that Light had to forcibly push the disturbing imagery out of his mind; it was times like this that he actually managed to scare himself. He didn’t want to ever stoop to becoming a cold-blooded killer; he was better than that. But it was getting so hard to maintain a clear moral compass. And if Kira hadn’t attacked the police, Light would’ve agreed with the tyrant’s stance on creating a perfect world by eradicating the scum of the Earth. But Light can’t side with a tyrant.
Light refused to sink to the level of corruption inflicted upon him by those pieces of filth. He was not going to let them damage him.
Light had been telling himself things like this for a while now, and he was starting to believe it less and less. He kept experiencing trauma after trauma and he didn’t know how much more he could take. Why did he have to be here? He didn’t have the emotional energy to tackle his own problems, so why did he have to hear about Takada’s.
As he was thinking this, Light watched as more thoughts etched themselves into every other available surface in the apartment. The sentence etched into the linoleum in front of him read, ‘I give my all for the sake of truth and justice, and I thought he felt the same way. Instead, he puts so much energy into destroying a man simply because he wasn't god.’ Another appeared on the cabinets above him, reading, ‘Mikami refuses to use the book for my gain. Well, he only has this power, because I wanted the eyes without losing half my life.’ Then under that he read, ‘I could have kept the book for myself; that kid threw it at me after getting cold-feet.’
Light had to admit that he was beginning to question Takada’s mental stability; or maybe he was simply questioning his own, if it turned out this was solely his dream. Why is everyone so fixated on magic books? And why would eyes cost a person half their life?
These thoughts were quickly cut off when he felt a sharp pain run through his temples. His vision had flashed red, and he could feel blood dripping down his face due to a sudden nose bleed.
Suddenly, horrific images assaulted his mind; the sensation it gave was painful and resonated throughout his entire body. The images flashed by so quickly he barely had time to comprehend them; the first was of a black book, the second had a leather-clad clown monster, the third had Matsuda shooting at him, and the rest were too fast and blurry to understand.
Finally, the images came to a halt.
Light found himself stumbling into a dark, candle-lit room. There was a circle drawn in the middle of the room; it looked like it was drawn in blood. In the middle of the circle sat a young man on his knees, completely naked; his head was bowed, and shadows obscured his face from view. Looking up, Light quirked his head to the side in confusion. There was a dismembered head… that was somehow levitating. The blood pouring from its neck was splattering down onto the young man’s exposed flesh. Light moved around the edge of the circle ‘til he was staring into the dismembered head’s eyes; it was his mother’s face that was looking back.
Before Light had a chance to react, he was pulled back into Takada’s mind; where he was still sitting on the kitchenette floor. He let out a few distressed whines as he tried to fully comprehend what he had seen. Has someone desecrated his mother’s body in the real world?
“What are you doing here?!” called out Takada, making Light jump before noticing that there was another person present in the room.
The newcomer was nothing but a shadow; it was kind of like how he saw Matt in that other dream he had. Light was beginning to wonder why he couldn’t observe certain people in these dreams. Still, he figured the only way to learn this stranger’s identity required listening and observing their interactions.
Curiosity just kept getting the better of him. Light quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and crawled closer; he was now situated under the dining room table. The new-comer was quite soft-spoken, so it was rather difficult to listen in; Light finally understood Sayu’s complaints whenever she was eavesdropping on him.
“I've missed you,” whispered the stranger, in a husky voice.
Was that supposed to be sexy? questioned Light, rolling his eyes.
“That’s all you have to say after four months,” said Takada, angrily. Then after a deep sigh she continued in a softer tone. “You broke my heart.”
So this person was an ex-boyfriend of Takada’s, thought Light. This may prove to be important information. If this man had truly desecrated my mother’s corpse then it wouldn’t be far-fetched to assume he killed her as well; this means that he either is Kira or possesses powers similar to Kira.
Light shrugged off those thoughts for now, and resumed eavesdropping.
“Do you really think that I’m the same man that broke up with you?” asked the stranger, as he softly caressed Takada’s shoulder. A flicker of comprehension crossed Takada's face.
“No,” replied Takada, breathless. She then seemed to regain some of her common sense back. “You’re the guy Ryuk told me and Mikami about, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” answered the stranger. Before he could say anything further Takada slapped him hard across the face.
Well, it seemed like Takada was pretty pissed off at this stranger. Still Light frowned as he concentrated on figuring out what that conversation had meant. This speculation left him with more questions than answers.
Who was Ryuk? And what are his ties to Mikami, Takada and this stranger? Why was there so much miscommunication between parties? Ryuk, as their connection, had to know everything that was happening? Was he withholding information from both Kira and these renegade Kiras? Wasn’t he worried about retribution? Was he that powerful or just plain stupid?
“It was only after losing you that I realized how mistaken I was,” continued the stranger. Takada’s glare softened as she latched onto his every word; Light rolled his eyes in exasperation as he watched her fall for this bullshit. “Let me make it up to you.”
The stranger had then leaned in for a kiss that Takada was more than happy to accept. Light actually felt mildly disgusted as he watched how easy it was for him to manipulate a person like this; it wasn’t just morally questionable, but the dialogue itself was just so damn corny it was pain inducing.
Light was now even more confused as he thought over their conversation; apparently the stranger had done something to Takada that had destroyed their relationship, but Takada had to ask if he was the man Ryuk had mentioned before, like she hadn’t ever met him in person. This brought up so many contradictions.
Well, this is all getting pretty strange, thought Light, tilting his head as he evaluated the situation. Their connection seems to be through Ryuk, whoever he might be? Well, either that or this whole paradoxical nightmare is a result of me having a brain bleed or something.
Light was then momentarily distracted from his mild panicking as a black cat curled up next to him; he then noticed it had a bandage around its right leg. Was it the same cat that stole his lunch four weeks ago? As Light continued to ponder this, Takada and the stranger resumed their conversation.
“Alright, you want to make up,” replied Takada, with a dazed smile. “What are you going to do for me?”
“Well, for starters, I am going to inform you of the police that are currently watching you,” replied the stranger, casually as Takada began to panic. “But they suspect Mikami; not you.”
“How does that help?” said Takada, as she paced back and forth; her face was still stoic, even though her movements were panicked. “If Mikami gets caught, they are certainly going to be suspicious of how my relationship with Mikami started at about the same time that Kira started his judgments.”
“Remember that I have the same power. We can manipulate events to play out how we want them to,” informed the stranger with a sadistic cat-like grin; which was quite an accomplishment considering, from what Light could see, the man didn’t even have a face. “Firstly, Mikami is going to let you take the notebook. You are then going to hide it and then turn him in; saying that Mikami only recently confessed to you about killing criminals, but he didn’t specify how. Prior to being arrested he is then going to commit suicide and in a note he will collaborate with your story. This will all be possible, since he’ll want you to continue Kira’s judgments unhindered when he’s caught.”
“But why should Mikami be concerned about getting caught?” asked Takada, curious. She still stood proud and confident, even though she was obviously scared; this ability of hers actually made Light suspicious of her cowering during the bus-jacking. “He has already been working on framing the person you need to obtain immortality. This would have the added bonus of deflecting suspicion away from him.”
Light was wondering if the bus-jacking was an attempt to frame him or Yuri. Did the stranger need a virgin sacrifice? ‘Cause while Light may have been a virgin then, he certainly wasn’t one now; this thought made him really want to take a shower. Still, there were probably a lot of virgins out there to choose from, so why would Mikami think framing either him or Yuri would stop this other person from completing his own agenda?
Suddenly, the black cat swatted Light across the top of his hand; drawing blood. He had gotten so caught up in his own thoughts that he had missed a small chunk of what the stranger was saying.
“-then he’ll realize that he threw out several of the book’s pages in the garbage?”
“But he always burns the old pages when he’s done with them,” argued Takada.
“Human error is a possibility for anyone,” replied the stranger, smugly.
“But that means that there are officers that are now capable of seeing Ryuk,” countered Takada, a taunting lilt entering her tone. Meanwhile, Light was briefly taken aback by the notion that this Ryuk person was selectively invisible.
“Remember that we both possess a shinigami with an apple addiction,” replied the stranger. “So as long as you feed that addiction you can get him to do some minor tasks; as long as it doesn’t interfere with his entertainment.”
“This isn’t right,” muttered Takada, as she sat down on one of the dining room chairs.
Takada looked as though she was experiencing a moment of clarity; seeming to realize how immoral this was. To the public Kira was supposed to be justice, but so far he had only displayed attitudes that denote selfishness and spite. As the saying goes, ‘Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely’. But it seemed like the stranger wasn’t done with his sweet talking, yet.
“I hear that Mikami refuses to help you with achieving your goals,” said the stranger, as he gently embraced Takada; this was done so as to hide smirk from her line of sight. He knew humans were rotten to the core and that they would always give into their darker desires; ambition, lust, greed, etc. “Well, I’ve already written Nishiyama’s name down; cause of death, hit by a transport. You’ll then have what you want,” as he whispered this, he knew he had won her over. “And in a few weeks’ time we can continue our work as Kira. We‘re only doing what is right; what is necessary. I have gone as far as to sacrifice my very soul in order to create a better world.”
Light suddenly felt a series of emotions that weren’t his, but somehow felt familiar. There was determination, pride, sadness… guilt.
Light then heard a voice in his head say, ‘I have come too far to stop now. I’ve killed hundreds of thousands of people to better this rotten world. I am now doing what I can to maintain my place as a God; I entered into a contract with the demon, Asmodeus, and even bathed in my mother's blood. I became an incubus just to get Takada on my side, so there is no room for regrets now. If this fails, the entire plan ends with Mikami suffering a heart attack. And that will ruin everything’.
For a moment, Light could sense that they were experiencing genuine regret. But that regret was quickly followed by conviction before divulging into utter madness. This rapid influx of emotions caused his nose to start bleeding and a headache to begin forming. The room began to spin as his vision started to blurred.
“Only you and I are capable of creating this new world,” said Takada, her voice breathless as the Stranger’s mouth moved along her skin. “And we’re going to do it together.”
The man didn’t reply. Instead he worked on pushing Takada’s dressing gown so that it slipped down and pooled on the floor as he placed gentle kisses along neck. His hands were caressing the lower part of her exposed back while Takada’s hand reached down and began stroking his -
So as not to be a pervert, Light turns away immediately and tries to tune out the sounds they are making. But that didn’t help since Light could feel himself experience the same sensation as the stranger. His headache was also beginning to worsen as more thoughts that weren’t his own assaulted his mind.
The cat scratched Light again. The pain had helped in grounding him, but he could feel that he was losing himself again. Light didn’t know what was happening and it was scaring him. The cat had then jumped on his legs and that was Light when noticed the differing sensations present; the scratches and the weight of the cat felt like they were echoing from elsewhere while the table leg he was leaning against seemed to gradually become less substantial.
Wait, this is a dream! All I have to do is wake up, thought Light. Maybe I should pinch myself.
Before Light could do anything the psychic trauma had gotten so bad that all he could do was curl up in pain. His thoughts seemed to be trying to mix with the Stranger’s own, but they were acting like oil and water; well, a more apt description might be that they mixed like hydrogen and chlorine. It felt like acid was eating away at his brain.
“Oh, Light, your nose is bleeding,” said Takada, concerned. To Light the voice sounded muffled and so far away. The Stranger also said something, but it was too quiet for Light to hear over the pounding in his ears.
“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” muttered Light, breathing heavily as he repeatedly pinched himself.
The cat shook her head in shame. To be honest Light felt embarrassed as he met the cat’s disappointed gaze.
Then before Light had a chance to comprehend what was happening, his right arm felt as though it was on fire and the world around him faded out.
End of Light’s Dream
Light bolted upright. He was on fire. Like literally on fire. His arm was on fire.
Light immediately strips off his shirt and stomps it out. He stares at it for a minute before throwing it into the wastebasket.
What the fuck? How did that fire start? thought Light, panicking. Did I knock over a candle? Are there any candles here? No. What the fuck!
Breathing heavily, Light examines his surroundings, but doesn’t see anything that could have caused a fire. He sees that he is still in the same room Watari had left him in; though, for some reason, he had slept-walked from the bed to the furthest corner of the room. And the same cat from the dream was currently sitting on the dresser.
How did this cat get here? Whatever Light had just gone through must have been a dream, but the cat obviously wasn’t. Light figured that he must have been subconsciously aware of her presence in the room. The cat was staring at him with some fondness. This confused Light as he took the time to examine the cuts the cat had inflicted on his arm.
Well, that’s not really the worst of my injuries, thought Light; bitterly. I’m not really looking forward to facing the mirror anytime soon.
Light remembered the events of last night. How he had been beaten, partially skinned and had spat out no less than ten teeth. But he was still alive. He was alive and could barely feel any pain; just minor aches.
I’m still alive while Mom is dead. My mom is gone and she isn’t coming back. And here I am worried about a little disfigurement, thought Light, entering into hysterics; laughing that quickly turned into crying. Why did I survive and she didn’t? I shouldn’t be the one to continue living.
Light felt like he was being choked and his chest hurt as he cried out; these cries resembled those of a wounded animal more so than those of a human. He didn’t know what to do anymore; he had been raped, accused of being Kira, and had his mother killed, all within the span of a week. Light just wanted for the universe to be done with him. And even though he no longer wanted to live, he didn’t want to die either; but it was appearing to be the only way out… and he really wanted out.
Light isn’t sure how long he was curled up on the floor sobbing, but the cat seemed to be worried about him as she began nudging her face against his leg. His eyes felt incredibly raw. Sunlight was beginning to break through the night sky and was now seeping in through the window. Sunrise during the month of April usually occurred at about 5:20 am. So it was obviously too late to head back to bed.
With some effort, Light managed to pick himself off the floor. While heading towards the door, Light spotted a folded piece of paper taped to his shirt sleeve. Unfolding it, it read;
‘Light
You are welcome to help yourself to the clothes in the dresser. There’s a shower down the hall and to the left if you want to freshen up. Afterwards you are to see L down in room one.
Watari’
Light laid the note on the top of the dresser before rifling through the draws; there wasn’t much there that matched his usual style. With an annoyed sigh, he just grabbed what he needed; some undergarments, a pair of dark coloured jeans, a black shirt, and a set of white socks. He then spotted a red pleather jacket and decided to grab that, too; a bit of colour would go nicely with this ensemble. That and he really liked the colour if not the material.
Come to think of it was one of his mom’s favourite colours, as well, though she always preferred the lighter shades.
His eyes began watering again, but Light quickly wiped them with his sleeve. He then headed towards the washroom. Upon entering, Light avoided looking into the mirror; not feeling up to facing his reflection at the moment.
Light quickly stripped out of his bloodied clothes. He couldn’t believe that he had fallen asleep in them.
Jumping in the shower, Light shudders as a rush of cold water hits his body. He probably should’ve waited for it to heat up; not that it truly mattered. It helped him feel more awake anyway.
The dream had left him feeling quite shaken. Light was wondering if his subconscious was trying to tell him something; something that he can’t remember. He knew there were gaps in his memory, such as the day he had lost his best friend.
Based on what the police had told him afterwards, he had been the one that had called them. And yet, he couldn’t recall a completely solid memory from that day; there were so many gaps he couldn’t even understand the very few things he could remember. Such as panicking an hour prior to Shiori jumping, and the fact that he and Takada had an argument and he doesn’t even know what it was about. Afterwards, his dad had informed him that Shiori had committed suicide, and yet Light still felt like that inform couldn’t be correct.
Even though Shiori was the one that took her own life, I can’t stop feeling that I am responsible for it even though I remember nothing. Except seeing her fall. The look on her face, thought Light, as he scrubbed furiously at his face. It’s all my fault and I can’t help anyone. Not Shiori, not my Mom-
Shutting off the water, Light exited the shower immediately. At some point his heart had begun racing and his lungs felt like they were being constricted. Crouching down on the floor, he fought to get his breathing back under control.
The tiny, black cat had shown up back at his side and began rubbing her face against him. She was purring loudly and almost seemed concerned about him. Light let out a small laugh as he realized that his antics were even scaring the damn cat.
Still, the cat’s attempts at comforting seemed to help. Several moments passed and Light finally regained the strength to safely stand up. Turning to face the fogged up mirror, he grabbed a cloth to wipe down its surface. And immediately gasped, shocked at his reflection.
While his face still had some tender looking injuries, it was nowhere as bad as it should’ve been. Tilting his head, Light observed that his red-rimmed eyes were heavily bruised along with the upper half of his left cheekbone, but that was pretty much all. No scars, no broken nose… Light then opened his mouth. He found no missing teeth, either. So besides the cat scratches and the first degree burns on his left and right arm respectively, he was fine. The most major injury he had was caused this morning and even that seemed to be healing fast.
Light was now worried about how this miraculous recovery was happening. He knows that he didn’t hallucinate what had happened last night. So, is he somehow blessed? Or cursed? Was he going to slowly morph into some horrid creature with limited regenerative abilities like a worm or salamander?
Oh, my god! It’s like those stories by Kafka, thought Light; terrified.
Undeniably, something strange was happening to him. But Light didn't have time to analyze it too thoroughly. Or rather he didn’t want to analyze it too thoroughly.
So Light forced himself to stop panicking. And instead focused on getting ready. He bound his burnt arm in bandages before changing into his borrowed clothes. He briefly paused when putting on his socks. On his left ankle was a lot of peeling skin with a hint of discoloration just beneath the surface. Pressing his fingers against the area, he noticed it didn't hurt at all.
How odd.
~~~~~~~~~
The case appeared to be coming to a close. And L was just finding it all too convenient. The entire situation rang false to him. He still lacked a physical murder weapon; all he had was a witness, a confession and a vague explanation of how the murders were committed, that didn’t explain much of anything at all.
Forty-five minutes ago, Takada had gone to the police with information that Teru Mikami was Kira. Her statement was;
‘Mikami told me last night how he planned on murdering the Yagami family. He said this was a deliberate target on the chief of police. I thought he was joking at first, but he started freaking out about certain people not being present at the right time, that Sakota wasn’t supposed to die, and that the only correct target he hit was Sachiko. Thinking back, I believe he had some sort of ability like telekinesis. But he was crazy; he had an imaginary friend that he insisted was a shinigami. Saying that in order to commit the murders he just had to tell the shinigami the victim’s names. I was too afraid to say anything earlier. Before coming here, I went to my mother to discuss what he said to me and she insisted I go to the police. I called him one last time before coming in, which might have been a mistake. I don’t want to die.’
Misora could confirm the timeline of her story, so the task force had followed her tip. Mogi and Misora had entered Mikami’s home six and half minutes ago to find that Mikami had committed suicide, via seppuku. He had left behind a note confessing to his crimes. Mogi had snapped several pictures on his phone and sent them to the taskforce. L read the note, which stated;
‘I was Kira. I can no longer live with the weight of that on my conscience. I knew the game was up when Takada threatened that she was going to the police with that information. I thought she was on my side, but I was wrong. I can’t in good conscience kill her, but I know she’ll turn me in. I also know as a prosecutor I won’t last long in jail. If the state or the inmates didn’t kill me first then I know my shinigami will. I choose to die on my own terms. Therefore my final judgment will be my own.
Teru Mikami’
L had ordered for the note to be analyzed to make sure it was Mikami’s hand-writing. To L’s own eyes it looked legit, but with the confession coming from a man that had died wasn’t ideal. He couldn’t exactly question the suspect about the extenuating circumstances surrounding his suicide. Nor could he understand why Mikami had killed several FBI agents, since he wasn’t even a suspect until the Raye Penber incident.
Also, what the hell is a shinigami? questioned L; frustrated and at a loss on what to do with that particular bit of information. I doubt it was an imaginary friend, despite how it may have appeared to Ms. Takada. Could it have been a real god of death? If so, how do their powers function? Do they require a human host? Or was Mikami just crazy? Or, perhaps, lying?
All these problems boiled down to the fact that L still didn’t know how Kira killed. There was no solid proof; just speculation. Also, if someone else was to ever gain that ability or currently had it, he’d be back to square one. Unless he accounted for the possibility that there are multiple Kiras. Perhaps a 2nd Kira caused Mikami’s death. Then that prime suspect would still be Light. If Takada’s testimony was legit, then the teen would have had a viable motive. Mikami had murdered his mother, even though, according to Light’s birth certificate, Sachiko wasn’t biologically related.
Regardless, it’d be a matter of time before L would know for certain if the case was truly closed. L was now planning on pursuing a secondary case located somewhere in Tokyo. That way he could justify remaining in Japan for a while longer, even if he is forced to close the Kira case prematurely.
The sound of knocking got L’s attention as well as the rest of the taskforce, except Matsuda, who was passed out on the couch. A moment passed before Light quietly opened the door. L could see an unfamiliar black cat standing just behind him.
“Sorry for the intrusion, but Watari told me to meet with you down here,” said Light, before strutting into the room. He looked a lot better than last night, but his voice would still occasionally crack or cut out while he talked.
L reached for Light’s phone and wallet; he had taken the time to search them both. There was a spark of irritation in Light’s eyes as he recognized his belongings. L smirked at him before tossing him both his phone and wallet.
“You left them on the counter,” explained L, as his eyes bore into Light’s.
Light knew he knew. But L no longer believed Light was Kira; or at least, he wasn’t the Kira that had started the killings three and a half months ago. The text he had sent to the then active Kira site, seemed too out of place. If Light was Kira, he wouldn’t be sending a text to himself to kill a specific man. It was also unlikely Light did this deliberately to throw off suspicion.
L was under no delusion that Light wasn’t an extremely prideful creature of sorts. He definitely wouldn’t want to be seen as anything less than perfect. Therefore, he certainly wouldn’t want something, like being a Kira supporter, tarnishing his reputation.
“Did you sleep well?” asked L, deciding not to say anything about his online activity or what was on his birth certificate.
“Somewhat,” replied Light, avoiding eye-contact. L watched as his eyes settled on the screen behind him; his expression unreadable. L didn’t like that.
“Is there something wrong, Light-kun?”
“No,” reassured Light, numbly. “You found Kira?”
“Possibly,” answered L. “We have both a confession and a witness.”
“Oh,” mouthed Light, numbly. His mind seemed to be elsewhere.
L didn’t know what to make of Light’s reactions. He presumed it was safe to assume it had to do with Kira murdering his mother. Before L could say anything further Light’s phone rang. As Light answered, L watched as the colour drained from the teenager’s face. About half a minute later, Light hangs up.
“It was the hospital,” explained Light, his voice trembling. “Dad... he had a heart attack.”