Glass Flowers
I do not own Death Note, nor its characters.
A single tear escaped down his face, which in turn rolled down his cheek, chin, and down his throat. He can not cry anything but blood anymore and he regrets the world's sins and the faces he was bid riddance to and the pens, countless in number, that pile in the millions, equaling the body count. The sky is black as a detective's eyes and the corpses are so grey, like they don't matter. They do, they always did, and he was too oblivious to it until know, when he becomes one of them. It is hideous and it is that which he has made for himself. A fitting grave, a one which he dug himself.
"Good night Light Yagami. It was wonderful to know you."
Oh god, oh Kira, why did he create him? Why? Why did he pick up the notebook and make this world that he now is leaving?
It's disgusting, they whisper, that the world is fine to allow a single person relieve it of its darkest hearts. It's horrible. It's horrendous. It's vile.
It is God.
Really, L thought to himself while helping himself to more of the strawberry tart, it was incredible this little notebook. He held the Death Note between his thumb and forefinger, admiring it in a somewhat fascinated manner that is mixed with a feeling of despair which he has never known. It was a small black leather notebook, with the two white words etched in the front of it. Incredible, this thing which looked so simple could truly be so very complex.
So impersonal, so unbiased. It seemed like the perfect tool for killing, the perfect accessory for the person who claimed the title of the world's largest mass murderer. L bit strongly into his tart, studying the thing with perverse pleasure. This thing had caused so much trouble and yet it seemed like the most innocent thing to an outside observer. So strange it was, even more so than the man who now held it.
It seemed to be the Death Note, but L knew what it really was. It was impersonal, simple yet complex, and drove people to choose sides in a war they weren't even aware they were fighting in.
This little note book read Death Note in its plain white lettering, but it was really Justice, more than he was in any sense.
Appling her blush made her look more like a cheery little girl, opposed to a depressed young woman.
Appling her eyeliner made her look more mysterious, opposed to tired and sad.
Appling just the right amount of eye shadow made her eyes look a bright and electric blue, opposed to a dull and unflattering blue grey.
Still, while trying to apply her red, red lipstick, it always veers to the left too much, making her mouth look like a grinning slash, oh so very unbecoming for a young lady like herself. She would stare at her reflection in the mirror, almost sure that the person looking back wasn't her, because it could be. No, she was that hideous monster that was always staring with those cruel eyes, mocking her intelligence, mocking her face, mocking her heart and its desires.
Tears fell down her rosy cheeks, staining them with their trails down her face. Why, she sobbed, why can't I be perfect? Why can't I be perfect for my Light? The lipstick glared brightly on her face, drowning the rest of her beautifully made up face with its grotesqueness. She hung her head in shame. She was so, she thought for minute, ugly.
A voice in her head whispered;
"No mortal can ever be beautiful enough for a god."
Glass flowers fell around him as he stood there, arms spread like an angel (but he was so much more than an angel). They fell from the red sky and cut his skin, the perfection marred.
He smiled. They were beautiful and delicate and so free from flaw. Just as he was. Oh yes, just as he was. That was what Kira was.
A glass flower that was pretty from afar but cut you deep if you were fool enough to come near to him. His smile disarming, his eyes glittering red with the whole world's end reflected in their irises, and his body slim in form and had the look of a god. Why would it not? He was one after all. A god of justice, of blood, of tears, of lust, of apples. A god of the new world. He walked regally, his legs gracefully going one in front of the other, through the field of flowers, never touching any of them.
His lips curled into a smirk. The moon was vanishing behind him in the hideous red sky, but the sun rose before him, just as he wanted, just as he demanded. He controlled the sun and moon, he controlled the weather, he controlled life and death, he was the greatest being that had and would ever live.
The glass flowers shattered when they hit the ground, but Kira couldn't see it. His eyes were on the path in front of him and the future that was all his.
The problem with Kira was Light and vice versa. It was a circle of sorts, each one giving in turn to the other as they danced a sort of waltz until one decided to kill the other. Who was stronger, who was weak, the questions seemed to float between them like snow that never ceased to fall. What was Kira's weak points were Light's strengths and Light's weaknesses were what Kira lived off of. Providing for one another was essential for the two and it wasn't until Light touched that Death Note that Kira realized that he could be more than Light Yagami. That caused him to slowly seep through the cracks of Light's soul and poison his hands and tongue with the false words of justice that bring about the rise in power that Kira was craving, that Kira needed.
Kira was powerful, but only because Light allowed him to be. Kira wanted to be powerful without Light's permission, to be powerful on his own terms.
And then along came a spider…the meddling detective L. Kira hated L and Light loved L. They were at odds with one another and Kira wanted so badly to rid himself of both of the two. So that is what he did. He killed L using Rem, and then killed Light by destroying what he held dear in front of him. Kira knew now no end. Kira was the one who would win. Kira was Justice, not Light, not L.
Kira was thinking of this when he saw his last sun set.
A single tear escaped down his face. It rolled down his face, a dead and barren landscape of emotion. He couldn't even muster enough energy to wipe the tear from his face. It wasn't worth it, not now anyhow. He felt the dry air stop his tear so that it became a dusty stain on his otherwise perfect face. The mirror was cruel and made him want to smash it. Why, why can't I be normal, he screamed in his mind. The world turned like a cotton candy machine and he wanted it to stop so he could sit down and think. But the world just kept turning and turning and turning and turning and turning and turning and turning, faces, names, smiles, frowns, all going past him in a furious cycle.
He was so tired all of a sudden and he collapsed on the tile floor of the bathroom, resting his head on the cold tiles that made the heat of his forehead cool nicely. He could hear in the back of his head that stupid Kira yelling at him, yelling so loudly and yet no one could hear Kira but him. He frowned. He couldn't stand the constant bickering that flew about in his mind. Kira always wanting to write in the Death Note and Light just wanting it to be over. He tapped lightly on the floor with three of his fingers.
"I WANT TO BE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. It was so wonderful to speak like that, without restraint or censor. He didn't even mind Kira's yells from the back of his head, it felt that simply good.
Oh dear, he was so tired. He wanted to fall asleep and close his eyes to the world, but he was worried about the nightmares of the perfect world that seemed all too real and all too close. He wanted to stop it, but he couldn't destroy Kira without destroying himself.
Maybe a little nap, maybe a little one that wouldn't hurt as much. He closed his eyes and tried to forget and forgive, forget and forgive….
L found something strange on his doorstep on Tuesday morning. He picked it up with his thumb and forefinger and examined it carefully. It was very pretty, he admitted, but seemed somewhat superfluous really.
It was a glass flower. It slipped from L's grasp and cut his finger deeply. He gasped as the air hit the wound and quickly stuck the digit in his mouth. He winced. The pain was sharp, but ceased quickly and became dull. He glared at the now shattered thing.
How could something be so beautiful and then all at once be hurtful? He wondered this as he sought out a band-aid for his finger. A true question was it, a question that posed itself at the
most inopportune time. He wrapped the cut in the flesh colored sticky, and stared at it, musing quietly to himself.
Strange how it could be healed so fast with nothing but a small hint of care.
"I'll stay here with my secret,
Until it fades to dust…"
-"Choke" by Hybrid
the end of glass flowers
A.N. Ah, I can imagine the reviews now. "Miss Doll! You need to be working on other things, like Neck, or Fairetale, or even Shattered Porcelain! Why are you writing these little oneshots? To torture us?"
:) Actually, no. I'm just fascinated with the whole concept of Light and Kira being to separate personas fighting within one body until Kira eventually kills Light. If it's strange and you can't make sense of it, read it while listening to "The beginning is the end is the beginning" by Smashing Pumpkins. It's what I was listening to, in addition to the song I quoted.
Bah, writing makes me tired. I need a nap, like N O W now. But don't worry, I'll be alright.
As long as you review of course. If you don't I'll be devastated (that means YOU MiaoShou. You must or her loserness Sarah will be coming back and this time Light won't be so rude! Maybe there will even be the dreaded threesome! Egads, I hope not.)
(Also MS, Mogi is L's long lost sister. Everbody knows that. You obviously missed that episode.)
Please review…