"God is dead," recited the young man with unrealized dreams of utopia. "God remains dead. And we have killed him. Yet his shadow still looms."
It was a cool November afternoon when I first noticed the man who would become God in a high school philosophy class, ironically echoing the words of Nietzsche. I sat to his left and became enraptured by his peerless skill in philosophical argument and eloquent readings of foreign thinkers, old and new. Within the hour, he had established himself in my mind as a genius, and I wondered why I hadn't noticed him before, why no one else had noticed him before. Of course, he had been noticed, but he was not one to expose every part of himself. Even the handful of girls who each claimed to own a piece of his heart knew little about him.
To say that I had never noticed him was not completely accurate, either. I had noticed the odd string of kanji—night, god, moon—every time I'd checked my test ranking, and seen it just ahead of mine without fail. Light Yagami, I often heard, the genius. But those within the top ten rankings see everyone above them as threats. Every compliment is given grudgingly, every smile is painfully forced, and there is no cooperation. And so, when you are at the top, you have no one. I didn't pity him even once, as I fit into the second-place ranking, and had only one threat. Try as I might, I could never overcome his test scores. It's fair to say that I resented him at first.
But that was before I saw him in action. I remember Light as silent at almost all times , offering nothing unless called upon. This had less to do with arrogance and more to do with boredom—he was too intelligent to be interested in most classes. This only changed in philosophy class, when Light came alive, something like enthusiasm shining in his eyes. No matter the position he was assigned, he could develop an excellent argument and defend it relentlessly. In just a single class period, I started to see the enemy ranked above me as a person rather than just a name.
"How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?" he went on that day, eyes forward as he looked straight through our teacher and into the next world, "What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives; who will wipe this blood off of us?"
Perhaps, then, it was curiosity that led me to him, a desire to peer into the mystery of Light Yagami, the highest ranking student at Daikoku Private Academy for as long as he'd been there. Though I could never achieve perfection and the number one ranking as long as he was there, I saw no reason to resent him. Rather, I saw all the more reason to learn from him, as Crito learned from Socrates, because I recognized potential where I saw it. Light Yagami had explosive potential of the world-changing variety, and I wanted to be there to see it happen.
"What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?"
It is from the place that I would eventually reach, at the side of a brilliant mind poised for opportunity, that I would witness the makings of utopia and the birth and death of God.
But I didn't know that in November. I only knew that Light was a genius, and that he knew it, too.
"Hey, you don't have cram school until like seven, right?" Akemi asked, leaning over my desk. Eri and Rin were right behind her, checking their phones. "Come to the karaoke bar with us! We never hang out anymore."
"I know," I said with an apologetic smile, "But I'm really busy right now. I have to use all of my time wisely."
"Yeah, so use it at the karaoke bar. Relaxing is totally a wise use of time." I hesitated to respond a second too long and she frowned. "Fine, whatever. We can go without you," she said, and turned on her heel as the other two followed. They would later come to accuse me of thinking I was too good for them, but this is not true. I will admit that, in the pursuit of knowledge, I may have lost sight of some things, but I have never thought myself above anyone. If they knew what really happened, they would be glad to be rid of me.
"I don't know how you stand them," came the voice that read Kant and Russell, and my head shot up in surprise. Light Yagami stood close by, his bag slung over his shoulder, looking pointedly at the gossiping trio at the door.
"They mean well," I said, gathering my books, "But I can't afford to go out with them anymore. I want to go to To-Oh, after all."
Something like recognition flashed in his eye. "Oh, yeah? I'm aiming to go there, too." There was just a hint of a smile on his lips. "Philosophy test is next week. Want to study together?"
That was the moment that I was no longer just a classmate, but a potential equal. I wasn't about to let the invitation just pass me by. "That would be great."
I still cannot decide if I regret not accepting Akemi's invitation.