Prolapse
Sometimes, when he thought hard enough, he remembered a distant life.
A life full of high standards, of names, and of monsters who were liars.
Apples that turned to sand, and eyes as red as blood running down stairs of endless steps.
Trees of black and white, roots endlessly twisting and turning; together searching, and why would they not stop?
Gunshots ringing, and painpainpain, unnatural pain - they were nothing, nothing to God, so why was there pain?
Laughter and applesappleapples, do you know Gods of Death love apples?
Pen against paper, and loss, and regret, and Ryuk.
Ryuk was gone.
"Yagami!"
Light glanced upwards.
"Pay attention! Will you continue to do this every lesson?"
Snickers erupted around the classroom, children grinning towards him like they knew him, like they understood him. As if they could - he was God in a child's skin. They were nothing.
Ryuk was gone. The Death Note was gone. His work was gone, reset, vanished - all of it. Wasted ink and days of constant stress and ecstasy, all piled into one big mess of mixed emotions (yes, feelings). Did it even matter anymore? Did he even particularly care? Had he ever?
Crime rates were like they had never changed, but Light knew, oh he knew - people were always so quick to change. The Death Note had proved that; it had been the game changer - the world changer.
It had given him a purpose.
No more endless days of repeating the same things over and over; of praises that felt like ashes upon his skin - singeing and scalding in their falseness yet loosely slung again and again. A mantra he had eventually become accustomed to - one he had to (after years of perfection, perhaps).
The same cycle everyday of acting the same and acting normal yet being special - being what his father wanted; what his family expected. Ironically enough, what the world itself expected from geniuses like him.
"Since the day you were born Light, have you ever once spoke the truth?"
Normalcy was nothing more than a thin, fragile layer of skin, and no one had noticed on the day that, Light Yagami had finally shed his own. Not noticed, when he had slithered out to finally bask in the light of the world - a new world - his world.
Except one.
One who shouldn't have, yet did notice his abnormality. On highly persistent fool, yet whose genius matched his own. No one else had ever gotten as close. But he had.
And it had terrified him.
But then again, why should that occur this time?
After all, why would he let such a chance go to waste? He'd escaped his chains once - why not simply avoid them this time?
He knew what traps laid in wait - knew which steps to take, and when to change direction. What kind of pace to take, and when to strike without the fear of missing.
He knew his enemy this time.
Light Yagami didn't care about the world, and he'd certainly never cared about the people who inhabited it. Who would truly care about cleansing the world; making it a better place?
To say so would be a lie. Nobody was that selfless.
No... Light Yagami had just wanted to feel alive, to feel something - if anything. And he had.
Through murder.
Killing had come easy to him as lying right to his fathers face. It was as though he had been meant for it - meant for the thrill of watching eyes dim and faces slacken permanently. Of blood draining bodies, and the screams of those who knew what was to come.
Yes, Light Yagami knew he was a serial killer (there was no denying it), or at least he had been. After all, what did it matter now?
The world had been reset (unfortunately enough), and now Light Yagami was nothing more than a unsociable, lazy 6 year old child. Or, at least that's what he wanted others to think.
He was the image of innocence itself. Of course, such a perk came with its downfalls too. If he weren't already deemed crazy - he determined that he would be soon. Though, being treated as a six year old child, when actually you were a twenty one year old young male was bound to drive anybody crazy. Having to act such an age just made the situation even more unbearable.
But things were different this time - they had to be different this time.
After all, was he the only one?
He might not be - with the way his luck ran - then again, he hadn't been kidnapped or locked up yet. And Light knew that being a child wouldn't stop that sugar obsessed bastard.
L didn't understand the meaning of boundaries.
Perhaps he was the only one who remembered. He wouldn't be complaining.
He shuffled his spelling test across the wooden table before him, spine arching into the uncomfortable chair behind him. A quick scribble, and a few misplaced letters.
An average score overall. Light Yagami was no genius.
Not this time, anyway.
Interestingly enough, such a simple change in his livelihood had brought a large difference to his surroundings.
Nobody liked him.
Well - that might be pushing it.
His family still seemed to like him, aside from his fathers disappointment, which had long ago lost its small, yet unexpected sting. It was his classmates that intrigued him most.
It was a strange, yet new concept being bullied - if that's what you could call five to six year old simpletons pointing out your many failures.
The children seemed to find his blunders and lack of friends hilarious. Lights hilarity came from their strange belief that he actually cared.
As if God would care for the whims of the simple.
In his life before he'd had many people wishing to make his acquaintance - not that he needed or wanted such links. People were always fickle about the smallest of things after all. They had wanted Light Yagami, and Light Yagami had never existed.
No one wanted him-Kira.
His classmates sudden change of views were just proof of his own.
Humans truly were disgusting creatures.
You could never trust them - betrayal was always inevitable.
Light gritted his teeth, one small fist clenched into his shirt. He didn't need help - God didn't need help. The people should trust him; trust his judgement - they should've-
Matsuda pointed the gun towards his forehead, his hatred like fire by burning in his eyes. And Light could feel the pressure on his skull, his breath quickening; his heart racing like drums in his ears and - why?
Light stopped thinking and looked up.
Teiji Taizo grinned, holding up yet another rubber in hand. Like he had he power - like he was in charge of the situation.
That look that sugar-obsessed idiot had constantly given him.
Light took a deep breath.
Why were children's bodies so emotional? He couldn't remember being so prone to anger beforehand. Then again, none of his reactions to L had ever been normal.
They had always been too similar.
He picked the ruined rubber up off of his lap, nails digging into its darkened sides.
He imagined it was like that little bastard Near's eye.
A surge of glee ran through him.
The rubber gradually shredded under Light's attack, Light himself unaware of the wide-eyed looks coming from his neighbours.
Light looked up from his helpless victim.
He was bored.
...
And Teiji was still waiting for a reaction.
Light couldn't stand children. He made sure to drop the remains of his torn carcass in front of the bold child's gaze. A declaration of war, perhaps in a child's mind, a promise of what was to come in Light's own.
But then again, he'd rather not have to clean up such a mess.
Light glanced above.
Teiji Taizo would live to be a grand age of seventy eight. How about that.
He would learn; he would grow up, get a job - probably get married and have a few kids. He would realise all of his mistakes; perhaps prove himself worthy of the world he had been given a place into.
Red eyes met suddenly dimming blue.
But then again, why give second chances? After all, a murderer will always feel the urge to murder again, just as a liar will constantly lie.
He himself knew the truth of that. Kira knew the truth of that.
The world snapped into place.
And Light Yagami-Kira finally smiled back at Teiji Taizo, perfect teeth and all.
Kira was bored.