(Trigger Warning: Suicide, Depression, Self-Harm, Eating Disorder, Fear of Death, Character Death, Self-Hate, other possibly triggering content)
"When you are guilty, it is not your sins you hate but yourself."
~Anthony de Mello, One Minute Wisdom
I once read a quote that I scoffed at before moving on, not believing the stupidity of it.
Now, however, I believe it.
That quote was,"When you are guilty, it is not your sins you hate but yourself." And it's true.
I absolutely loathe myself.
Why?
I'm Kira. I was and am and always will be. I'm sorry for being too much of a coward and giving up my goal.
I just... I'm so tired. And the guilt of it is eating me alive.
I don't say, "Goodbye", "Farewell", "I'll see you again", or, "Don't cry for me" because you don't need that, and I won't. Because I can't go to Heaven or Hell. Besides, you probably wanted me, a heartless murderer, dead anyway.
So... I'm so sorry for tearing apart your families and lives and killing off criminals. I'm sorry I'm so messed up.
I'm sorry I don't regret it.
And I'm sorry for wasting your time. You were probably doing more important things before you found this.
-Raito Yagami (Kira)
The letter was found next to the hanging corpse of the writer. A chair was rolled away, kicked from underneath him. It was a shocking sight to discover, your son dead and hung in his room with his desk chair kicked and a rope around his neck, coupled with the many bleeding scars on his arms.
On his desk sat an open, black notebook, with writing on it.
Soichiro walked to it, pale and tearful, and shocked to the core. Sayu and Sachiko had just left home, and he was just leaving. The notebook had a small note written there.
Light Yagami, hangs himself in room at 4 AM and dies thirty seconds later of suffocation and blood loss.
The rest of the page was completely blank.
He pulled on gloves—kept on Light's desk—and picked up the notebook. He used Light's camera to take pictures of the teen.
In about fifty seconds, the shock and pain would set in. But he had some time beforehand.
Evidence gathered and note taken, he left the room quietly, the door clicking shut behind him.
As he did so, the realization hit him like a bullet. His son was Kira.
His son was also dead.
He had hung himself.
Soichiro had a breakdown on the way to headquarters.
L was becoming slightly irritated. Yagami—neither Yagami—had yet shown up, and they had evidence to review. It was almost twelve in the afternoon, and they were still absent.
At around half past, a knock on the door came. Watari reviewed the camera and confirmed the identity of Soichiro Yagami, holding a bag. But Light Yagami was nowhere to be found.
As L was about to question the elder Yagami, he spoke up in a flat, sad tone.
"Light is dead."
This shocked the Task Force immensely.
"What?"
"Was it Kira?"
"How?"
L, however, was silent as his thoughts whirled about frantically.
Light Yagami? Dead? No, this doesn't fit. Was it Kira? That would have to mean that he wasn't Kira, which I know for a fact he was. So... How?
"I would also like to know how," he stated, biting his nail in thought as he looked at the man.
"He... He hung himself in his room at four this morning, speeding up the process by cutting his wrists... I took pictures and found a notebook on his desk, which I brought. I used gloves to pick it up," Soichiro said, handing over the bag with the newly developed photos and the notebook.
L, stunned and mind completely buzzing and frantically searching, but doing his best to cover it—not that he need bother, as the rest of the Task Force was too shocked to notice—opened the bag and removed the photos and notebook—which was sitting in a plastic bag.
The contents of the photos were disturbing, for lack of a better term. L wasn't expecting to see anything like it during this case. That is, his main suspect hanging from a ceiling fan by a rope with blood running down his arms from self-inflicted scars, tear tracks down his cheeks from his once open, intelligent, curious honey eyes.
Don't get L wrong, he didn't care about Yagami. He only cared about the fact that his main suspect was dead.
And if, deep down, the death of such an amazingly intelligent individual was part of it, well, nobody needed to know.