Light is hunched over the Death Note, eyes narrowed in concentration and fixed on the pages before him. The room succumbed to the growing darkness outside more than an hour ago, but he hasn't noticed. His spidery writing is scrawled across the lines, black and inky like the smudges which have escaped onto his fingers.
But Light is not alone; Light is never alone.
A great hulking presence is always nearby, curious and persistent. Light is not bothered or affected by this: it's simply the way things are. Their surroundings are draped in shadows; cobwebbed pockets of darkness strung around the room, nestling in corners and flickering in the lamplight.
While Light works, Ryuk watches.
Next to the Death Note, a laptop lies flipped open, screen glowing faintly. Light glances up at it every so often, pausing momentarily to check some details or study a photo. His eyes seem to glitter oddly, dark-rimmed and almost emotionless. The laptop's electronic luminescence gives his skin an unnatural, pallid tinge, and he scrolls down the screen, mouth twisted into a very faint frown.
Suddenly, he smiles; a quick flash of gleaming white teeth, and a look of smug satisfaction.
Ryuk is intrigued.
Light amuses him, as does watching the boy use the Death Note. He knows that Light never smiles that way in public; it's a personal, private expression, for when things have worked out just the way he wanted. He knows from the way that Light scribbles down the next name with just a little extra fervour, that he's condemning someone that he's wanted to for a while.
Ryuk smirks, studying Light from where he's taken up residence on the end of the bed, sitting casually, always wondering at just how hard Light works. It had surprised him a little, at first; at how quickly Light had decided that he was justified in his murders; decided that, beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was his place to be this supposedly righteous, bringer of judgement. But he's glad, of course. Light would have been no fun if he'd been too sane to want to use it.
Ryuk is glad Light is here. He always somehow manages to keep him from becoming bored.
Light draws in a breath and tosses his pen down onto the desk, leaning back and half-closing his eyes. He accepts Ryuk's company without a second thought; as far as he's concerned, he may as well be alone. Light's lips are slightly parted, and he reaches up to rub at his temples. If he had been any other human, the shinigami would have guessed that he was starting to let things get to him.
With a slight shake of the head, Light's back straightens again and he opens his eyes, mouth set and resolute. He reaches out and smoothes over the crisp pages of the Death Note, running his eyes once more over the lines darkened by names and, in some cases, descriptions of appropriate details of death.
He turns a little to look back at the clock, and finds that Ryuk has moved to come and stand behind him, peering over at his evening's handiwork. Light is pleased. In some way, it's satisfying to know that someone is witness to this; while there are sites on the internet acknowledging him as the world's saviour, no one else really knows.
"Busy tonight."
The observation is, as Light would have expected, said with a trace of amusement. He knows that it delights Ryuk that he has such solid plans for using the Death Note; though of course, Light is only doing it for himself - and the world. He shrugs slightly, and does not look back, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.
Light gently shuts the Death Note, carefully stowing it away for the night. He's a little annoyed with himself for spending so long on it; he realises he should have been studying for the past twenty minutes, and he can't really afford to lose sleep or study time. But, he thinks, his time spent with the Death Note is necessary to bring those immoral people of the world to justice - so, perhaps, for one evening, a little tiredness would be inconsequential.
He's leaning across, picking up a history book when he suddenly feels a hand on his shoulder. He freezes, mildly surprised: this is not… what happens. But then the touch is gone, so he sets the book down on the table, and continues with his intention to work.
The presence is not gone, though; the back of his neck prickles, and it sends shivers down his spine. He tries to focus on his book in the gloom, but he can still feel the ghostly contact on his shoulder as though it burned him.
Light bites his lower lip, and realises his heart is pounding. He refuses to look back. He's staring blankly at the book before him, and doesn't even notice when Ryuk moves away again.
Until a moment ago, Yagami Light was unfailingly convinced that he was in control of everything. Now, though… from out of the corner of his eye he can see Ryuk is back to sitting on the bed, watching him quietly - and suddenly, he's not so sure.