I alas…do not own Kenshin… he belongs to Watsuki Nobuhiro. Deathnote is the creation of Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi. No spoilers.

A Confrontation of Light and Shadow

The two opponents stood facing each other, glaring angrily in the half-light of dusk.

The pair could not be more diametrically opposed—Fire met cold ice, the intelligence of youth versus experience. But there was one thing they shared:

There was no innocence here.

The man with fiery hair seemed deceptively relaxed, hands resting comfortably at his sides, as he turned burning ancient eyes on the grim-faced, dark-hared youth.

Finally, in a soft voice, he put words to the tension hovering in the air. "Do you really intend to kill me, Yagami Light?"

Light's face contorted with anger. "You are a fool…" In his hands was a black notebook. Such an unremarkable object it seemed… Snapping it open, Light poised his hand to write with the pen in his right hand. He grinned, the pen hovering millimeters over the paper. He hesitated, madness gleaming in his eyes. "What are you going to do now?"

Kenshin sighed sadly. "You know that you would be unconscious before you completed even the second character." Suddenly, the notebook fell from Light's hands, sliced into two even pieces down the spine.

Light shuddered, dropping the pen to land atop the ruined notebook. Such things should not be possible for a normal human… "How?" he asked. Some of his fear managed to slip past the intended calculation in his voice.

"You forget Light-san," Kenshin responded coldly, a hint of amber in his calm violet eyes "I was the first Kira."

Kenshin took a deliberate step forward. The sun sank into the horizon behind his shoulders, fanning the flame of his hair into a bright halo. Amber gleamed in the shadowy face. Light cowered back.

Kenshin scowled, his voice still hissing ever so calmly, "You Light-san, who have taken so many lives … you have never faced death have you?"

A hint of arrogance came entered the boy's eyes. "That is where you are wrong…"

Kenshin gave a nod to Light's right. "You mean the Shinigami? They are not death, only messengers and followers who rely on other forces for their power."

Light glanced at Ryukuu, who sat smiling amusedly at the goings on, his large teeth gleaming in the glare of the streetlamp.

"Think Yagami. He may be more powerful physically, but he underestimates me…"

"Please…" The teenager pleaded pitifully. Falling to his knees, he reached for a wad of paper with one hand, and felt with the other for his pen, laying somewhere in the darkness.

There was a swish of metal, and the steps continued to approach.

Each seemed timed with the beating of his heart.

He smiled again, gleefully this time, as his fingers grasped the smooth black plastic.

"How dare you defy God!"

He wrote. 'H…I…M…U…'

It was then that he felt the gentle tickle of razor sharp steel caress his throat.

"You are a child playing with matches Light-san. It is time for someone to take those matches away."