I would like to wish one and all a very merry Christmas. Before I do that, however, I would like to give you this fic to read.
Yeah, I know. I'm kind of sorry about it too.
Anyway. Though I hope it's evident from the stuff I've written below, this is loosely based on the events that occur after the Yotsuba arc. Consequently, I give this a Spoiler Warning of "DON'T READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T GOT PAST VOLUME SEVEN OF THE MANGA OR EPISODE 25 OF THE ANIME".
However, as this is a Christmas fic – and it's written by me – it definitely won't be staying entirely truthful to the canon story. It's supposed to be comedy, Light's supposed to be that grumpy all the time, and reality will have to be suspended in your minds for the time being. For the most part, this is because this story is… a cross-over fanfic.
In a manner of speaking.
I'm scared.
Disclaimer: If Death Note were mine, Light Yagami would really have that scythe. Likewise, if Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol was mine, Tiny Tim would have a scythe. That'd show that mean old Scrooge.
-
Past, Present, Future
Chapter One: Prelude
It was Christmas Eve at the Task Force headquarters. A few pieces of tinsel that had seen better days were draped limply about the place in a rushed attempt to make the place look a little festive. In the corner, a cheap USB Christmas tree rotated slowly, shedding its dim light across the desk.
Matsuda smiled to himself. He hadn't had much time to work on it, but… he had to admit, he'd done a pretty good job with the few decorations he could lay his hands on. It looked like a regular Santa's grotto, in his opinion. When the other guys came back with their coffee, they would be so impressed.
He sat down in his chair, and admired his handiwork with a real sense of achievement. No, he knew it wasn't much, but it was good for what it was. And it was the thought that counted – right?
Suddenly, he heard a click. They had certainly been quick…
He got to his feet, and watched expectantly as the doorknob turned.
The door swung open.
"Surprise!!" he beamed, spreading out his arms, waiting for the friendly backslapping and happy gasps to begin.
Ide stared blankly at him.
"… What surprise?"
Matsuda's smile faltered. "… The… The decorations! See?" He pointed animatedly over at the tiny rotating tree. Without anything even touching it, it fell over.
"Oh. I… see," said Ide, his expression not changing much at all. "Well… That's great. I'm glad to see you happy about Christmas. I'll just drink my coffee and get on with my work, if it's all the same to you."
… Well, that wasn't the kind of reaction he was looking for.
But, he shrugged, it was only Ide. What else could he expect from a guy who was grumpy all year round? Matsuda bet that, deep down, he was speechless in amazement. After all, he'd done a really, REALLY good job… right?
Light would like it. The Chief would like it. And so would Mogi. Aizawa was a bit grumpy too, so he shouldn't really expect much of a reaction from him either… but on the whole, Matsuda guessed that most of the guys would really appreciate what he'd done. Ide coming in first was just a bit unlucky, is all.
… Right?
He waited expectantly for the next person to arrive. He wouldn't have to wait long.
"Surprise!!"
Aizawa stared blankly at him.
"… Wh…"
"Matsuda decorated," Ide mumbled. "Tinsel, Christmas tree, things like that."
"Oh," said Aizawa. He went and sat down, and took a sip of coffee.
…
Matsuda psyched himself up again. All the miserable guys were already here – that meant that the next person to walk through that door would definitely appreciate his artistic abilities. DEFINITELY. No question about it, not at all.
The next person to walk through that door…
"Surprise!!"
Soichiro furrowed his brow a little. He opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced by a light nudge from Mogi, who nodded in the direction of the tinsel around the picture frames.
"… So you decided to put up some decorations, Matsuda," said Soichiro, smiling as politely as possible. "I'm happy to see that someone hasn't lost their festive spirit, even with Kira still around. Good for you."
Mogi nodded in approval.
"Well, thank you, Chief. And thank you, Mogi," Matsuda smiled triumphantly. "I'm happy to see that someone can appreciate things like this."
Unfortunately, fate had not given Matsuda much time to revel in his colleagues' compliments. As soon as the pair sat down, an icy wind began to blow through the open door. In the minds of the Task Force, all the world's bright colours began to pale… and soon, all but the distracted Matsuda were cowering in their chairs, holding their coffee cups close to their chests in a vain attempt to keep warm in the bitterness of the frosty breath that preceded…
In an instant, Light Yagami appeared in the doorway. He stood, tall and foreboding, and staring with pointed disgust at the USB Christmas tree, which was vibrating across the desk spasmodically.
"What," he said, wrinkling his nose, "is that?"
"Oh – Light!" Matsuda finally noticed him, yet seemed completely oblivious of his disapproving expression. "Yeah, it was a surprise! I wanted to decorate the place, make it look a little more jolly. How do you think I did? Pretty good, huh?"
There was a silence. A silence so heavy and pronounced that the air could be cut with a knife. Finally, as Light's gaze bore deeper into him, Matsuda realised that he was, perhaps, not quite as happy about the arrangements as first expected.
"Christmas decorations," Light almost spat. "Tinsel, and a tiny Christmas tree. This is a murder investigation, Touta Matsuda – not the Mardi Gras. No, this is not pretty good. This is stupid, and irrelevant, and – if you wouldn't mind," he sneered, "I would like you to take them all down. NOW."
"But… bu-but… Erm… But it's Christmas…" said Matsuda.
"Hmm. Yes. But the fact of the matter is that Kira is still at large, and despite the seriousness of the situation, you still find it amusing to go ahead and waste time by putting up Christmas decorations."
"Bu…"
"No buts," Light snapped. "Take down these silly decorations, Matsuda, and let us continue with our investigation. Christmas festivities can wait."
Crestfallen, Matsuda turned towards the tinsel dangling off the edge of the table lamp and, begrudgingly, removed it. Despite the crushing blow he had been dealt, he was still unwilling to let go of the holiday spirit so easily. With his last shred of courage, he turned back towards Light and asked – in as brave a tone as he could muster, "I was wondering, though. Seeing as it's Christmas day tomorrow, I was wondering whether… we could all have the day off. None of us really get to see our families much any more, and this is the one time of year where you should spend time with the people that matter to you most. So, umm… yeah, can we all have tomorrow off? One day off the job won't go amiss, would it?"
Out of instinct, the other members of the Task Force shrank further into their chairs. Without a sound, Light Yagami seemed to swell with rage in front of Matsuda. The icy wind bit deeper.
"A day off. Just because it's Christmas?" Light said, barely above a whisper, and yet loud enough to fill the room and Matsuda's head with horrific, foreboding echoes. "No. No Christmas holidays. As far as this Task Force is concerned, Christmas…
"… is…
"… cancelled."
The world froze.
And shattered.
-
Light Yagami was a cruel man. He cared for no one, worked his subordinates to the limit, and hated all things that were not compatible with his plans. He was a user, and a miser of both his material and spiritual wealth.
And worst of all, he held a dark secret from all those around him. As the leader of the Task Force, and the new, self-appointed heir to the name of L, his job was to catch criminals – most importantly, the mass-murderer Kira. The horrible irony that very few had been made aware of is that Light Yagami himself was Kira, and had killed the former, original L in order to gain more freedom and power. The original L had been suspicious of Light almost from the very beginning, and had been such a skilled detective that he had almost found enough proof to back up his suspicions. Out of fear and selfishness, Light killed him. Once, Light and L had worked together as a team. Now L was dead, and Light worked alone – without exceptions.
-
It was late evening now, and work at the Task Force headquarters had finally drawn to a close for the day. Light Yagami trudged home with a sour look about him, and thoughts of Matsuda's idiocy plaguing his mind. He couldn't care less whether it was Christmas or not – and those that did care were stupid. He promised to himself that, along with door-to-door salesmen, cleansing the world of people who loved Christmas would be his main priority after all the criminals were taken care of.
Depressingly, he imagined that he would be greeted with the same kind of mindless festive cheer when he arrived back home. Misa always was the sort to fall for all that corporate consumerism crap, especially if they dressed it up in pretty lights and sparkles. Once she had outlived her usefulness, he would have to get rid of her, too…
A happy thought.
When he finally arrived home, however, another pleasurable (if unexpected) circumstance arose: Misa was nowhere to be found. A piece of pink notepaper informed him of her whereabouts – unsurprisingly, she had gone last-minute Christmas shopping with one of her friends.
Light shrugged. Well – at least Christmas brought some kind of benefit with it. He wouldn't have to put up with all that whining. Instead, he was free to marvel in his own excellence without distraction this evening. He relaxed extravagantly into an armchair, and reached over to pick up a book to read.
On top of the book, there was a package.
Strange, he thought. Perhaps Misa had left him a present – or (more likely, he sulked) she might have just left some rubbish lying around. He picked it up roughly by one of the corners, as though he did not want to catch a disease from it. With the fingertips of his other hand, he straightened out the packet…
… Disappointingly, it appeared to be a half-eaten bag of mints.
"Bah," Light snorted, tossing it to the floor. "Humbugs." The mints spilled across the carpet, and he frowned. A disappointment – just like Misa, and the Task Force, and Christmas, and the whole world that revolved around him…
"Excuse me," said a voice.
A soft, low, monotonous voice. A familiar voice.
Light blinked.
He was sure… he was sure that he was alone.
"Excuse me," the voice said again. "But those were my humbugs. I doubt you'd appreciate it if I threw your things on the floor. Then again," the voice paused, "I don't suppose you're the sort of person to respect other people's property. After all, you certainly don't respect other people's lives…"
That voice… was…
Light's stomach seemed to fill with ice. It couldn't be – he was alone. ALONE.
"You're not very talkative today," the voice muttered expressionlessly. "That's unlike you, Yagami-kun."
He tried to swallow, but he couldn't muster the strength to do so. That voice… 'Yagami-kun'… It couldn't… It… but he was alone… and… but…
"Fine," said the voice. "It's really not required that you talk to me anyway. I would have liked some help picking up my humbugs, but I can see that you're not about to do that, so…"
Something moved in the corner of Light's vision. At first, it looked just like a delicate cloth falling to the floor… but as the movement progressed, features could be distinguished. After a few moments, the tip of the 'cloth' unmistakably became the fingers of a cold white hand. An arm sprouted from a hazy shape which – on closer inspection – formed the torso of an unforgettable, impossible young man. He tried to tear his eyes away, but it was futile.
Finally, the young man's face came into view as his translucent body arched ever downwards. Light watched with dread as everything faded into existence before him: the messy black hair, turned grey with the mist that surrounded it; the hollow, unblinking eyes that stared down onto the floor…
"Ryu… Ryuzaki!?"
The ghostly L raised himself back into his usual, hunched position and sighed. "Don't sound so surprised, Yagami-kun. You knew it was me as soon as I said 'excuse me'."
"But… b-but… But I… You're…"
"I'm dead, yes," said L. "But that's no reason for me to give up and go away. Look at Tupac," he added with a sly smile.
Light sat, frozen in his chair, staring in terror at the man he had watched die – the man he had killed. L slouched casually towards him, and placed a cold hand on one of his shoulders.
"So… How about we catch up on old times?"
-
Author's Note: If you're wondering where this story is going to go next… then I've obviously failed at writing this as well as I'd wanted to…
Yes, A Christmas Carol meets Death Note. This has probably been done, seeing as there's definitely an opening for a crossover with both stories… but I wanted to write this anyway. It seemed like a fun idea, and I really wanted to write a Christmas fic…
So here it is. Given the stupidly short amount of time I've left myself to write the next three chapters, expect to see the next updates on this very, VERY soon.
Merry Christmas!
