...and who will be there, when darkness falls...?
Light had been thinking about the past quite frequently as of late. Just inconsequential, idle thoughts, which he always pushed away as soon as he realised -- but they irritated him all the same.
After all, Kira was an idealist; a forward thinker. The past, what had gone before... all irrelevant, and nothing but a waste of time. Kira needed to focus on the future.
But sometimes, it was hard. Sometimes, when he was sitting alone in the dark with only his Death Note for company, he felt his mind drifting.
How many years had it been, since he had last allowed someone to see his face? He could barely even remember; five, perhaps? Or had it been six? And -- oh, who had been the last?
Had it been Misa, or Mikami? It hardly made a difference, of course, and Light didn't even notice the smirk which unconsciously twisted his lips. But somewhere, in the back of his mind, it disturbed him slightly that he couldn't remember.
He had known from the first moment he met her that Misa would have to be disposed of eventually. She had been irritating, clingy and a little stupid -- but she'd had her uses, and served them well enough. But as someone with connections to him, she had only ever been a threat.
He could remember, quite clearly, the utter lack of publicity surrounding her death. It had been quiet and clinical, and for several years now the media had been willing to do nothing which might antagonise Kira.
His world was progressing, although in a way not entirely to his liking.
Mikami... Light had regretted the necessity of that death, but nothing else could have been done. He'd been so useful, once, but eventually... his fanaticism had affected his sanity, somewhat.
But it was of no matter. He did not need either of them; L, Mello and Near were long gone, and none had since dared to step up and challenge him.
He was as a god.
(Killeliminatejudge the filthy peons they're not worthy to live in this perfect world!)
He smiled, and wrote down another name.
Kira didn't need anyone. And Kira especially didn't need anyone who needed him.
(Unratefulgraspingfools wanting what is not theirs to touch)
He noticed a flicker from the corner of his eye, and paused.
Ah.
He had returned. Ryuk, who did not disturb his silence. Ryuk, who did not question him anymore. Ryuk, who no longer pestered or bothered him.
Mind you, it had been a long association.
Light tended to not notice him most of the time; the shinigami was just there; an assumed presence, one he was accustomed to. Of course, while he still thought Ryuk a fool, somehow, the apartment never ran out of apples.
(Alwaystheretherethere always watchingandwaitingandwatching for what?)
In the past year, Ryuk had barely laughed at all. Sometimes, Light wondered why he was even still lurking around if it was all so unamusing now.
He didn't really like to think about it.
Light pushed the Death Note aside and abruptly stood up, walking over to the wide window to gaze out over the city. His city. His world. He didn't even notice when he started laughing.
The sun was beginning to set, and the outlines of the skyscrapers which dominated the Tokyo skyline were ablaze with the burnished gold and crimson of the setting sun. It was a fitting view; though the sun led them into darkness, it was through this that the new day could dawn, cleansing the world and bringing a new beginning.
He grinned, teeth glinting in the half-light.
"What's so funny?"
Light turned, somewhat taken aback that Ryuk had apparently decided to start talking to him again. The shinigami hovered behind him; his tone mildly curious, but expression unreadable.
"Nothing." He resumed his inspection of the city, but began to feel unsettled as it became obvious that Ryuk was not disappearing back into the shadows as he was usually wont to do.
"You were laughing," Ryuk pointed out, and for the first time in a long while, he looked interested, and almost amused.
Light didn't reply -- had he been?
(ListeningwatchingmakingFUNofme it's not right)
"...it's none of your business."
Best to ignore him -- what did Ryuk know, anyway? But then -- Ryuk laughed, and Light felt a cold, clawed hand come down on his shoulder.
"Hey, Light... you're goin' crazy, did you know that?"
He shrugged off the hand in annoyance, glaring, and strode back towards his desk. Ryuk followed.
"I'm a god, Ryuk; perfection! Don't talk to me of insanity -- that was Mikami's domain..." He laughed, but it sounded forced, and the shinigami merely continued to stare at him, smirking.
"You sure about that...?"
No reply; that wasn't even worthy of an answer.
Kira smiled and narrowed his eyes, looking up at the shinigami who had haunted him almost constantly for the past fourteen years. Ryuk was unphased; Light's threats and bouts of anger barely even provoked a reaction these days.
"Hey, I've seen the way you mumble to yourself... trying to fill in for all those humans that used to be close to you that you killed?"
(Imbecilecretingodofdeathwho knows nothing)
"I don't need anybody, and I certainly don't have to justify myself to you." His voice was laced with venom, and he pulled out his desk chair roughly and sat down.
But, it was true; Ryuk was there, always there, and he couldn't get away; it was unavoidable.
And then -- then there were claws on the back of his neck, digging in, and he gritted his teeth trying to ignore the uncomfortable pressure.
"What... are you doing?" Light spat out the words, a strangely unpleasant creeping chill running down his spine from the point of contact.
And then Ryuk was leaning closer, grinning, and there was a strange, almost cruel glint in his eye that made Light's breath catch in his throat, and made his scowl fade in surprise.
"Just... reminding you... that you're not as alone as you think."
And... it was quite true.
Later that evening, when the sky was black once more, Light sat at the table, writing intermittently in the Death Note. He couldn't help but be distracted by the crunching of an apple which emerged from one of the dark corners of the apartment around him.
Kira didn't like to think about the past; only the present and future. In which, it now seemed certain, Ryuk would be a constant until the day he died. After all... hadn't Ryuk once told Light that he would, eventually, be the instrument of his death?
And, well... he frowned, completing a stroke of kanji viciously, perhaps that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.