DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
Light remembers when he fist met Ryuk.
He can still recall that the Shinigami's eyes were what first captured his attention. And it wasn't so much their bright, yellow color, as much as how no light reflected on the bulging orbs, and how despite their childishly large quality, a sadistic glee was obvious in their depths.
He remembers the days of monotony before the notebook fell from the sky. Remembers the daily repetition, the mind-numbing boredom. Before he was blessed, the world had been a pallet of monochromatic hues; nothing mattered, nothing was unexpected, nothing was worthwhile. But one of the few specks of color he can recall from back then, is his eyes. Admittedly, he knows he's egotistical, but not usually about his appearance. However the feature he used to be so fond of, before he became God, was his golden-brown eyes. Brushing his hair in the mirror, he immediately focused on his eyes, on the honey-tinted orbs staring back at him. He had… pretty eyes, to be incredibly blunt (not as if he'd ever claim such a thing).
But then the notebook had fallen, the power had been bestowed upon him, and he'd become God. And as he purged evil, more and more color began leeching itself into the scenery; the pale yellow of Misa's hair, the hearth-tones of the fallen leaves, the worn blue of Ryuuzaki's jeans. The colors became chaotic, overwhelming and breathtaking and dizzying to his eyes that before had only seen the dull darks and grays. He's sure it's because he became God, because he's been granted the power that he can now see the World as it is. It's become more colorful, he's sure, because he's been ridding the world of the dark shadows and gray glances. Like tending to a garden, he muses, the more ugly weeds you pull, the more colorful and alive the roses grow.
He remembers, once he became Kira, looking into the mirror and idly noticing his eyes. They'd been as dark and shimmering as obsidian, purple-gray bags tinting the skin beneath his lashes. A small part of his brain protested, asking what had happened to his golden eyes? But the rest of his brain, Kira, snarled and told him Shut up, why would God be concerned about his eyes when his divine person has an entire world to control? The corner of his brain had recoiled, smarting at the sting of the rebuke, but didn't forget how his eyes had once been. So once the Kira-brain had disappeared, once he'd forgotten and gone back to being Light, that tiny part of his brain had been delighted to see the eyes were back, and he was back, and all was good.
But now, now he's remembered it all. He's killed them all, he controls them all. He has effectively become God. Every now and then he recalls the evening in the warehouse. The yellow light, the lazy circulations of the huge fan, the horrified glances, the blood; oh my, the blood. Deep and rich and sweet as wine, with such a heady metallic aroma, you'd loose your mind. Splattered on clothes, pooling on the dirty floor, dripping and leaking slowly out of once-warm bodies. When he remembers that evening, remembers the utter defeat of his last hurdle, the glory and satisfaction and power, pure and raw, flows like adrenaline through his veins, shocks his mind and rolls his eyes back into their sockets. That sensation… It's his drug, and he knows he will never be faced with a challenge like that again (after all, everyone worships Kira now) so he cherishes the memory, savors the recollections and relishes every single image he can remember from that night.
Now, staring into the eyes of Ryuk, he can see himself once more. The God laid bare in front of the God. He sees his visage reflected in those wide, blank yellow eyes, sees his cruel smile and gray-bags beneath his eyes.
His eyes.
In the eyes of the Shinigami, he can see his eyes. He can see their utter darkness, the depth of the black. He can see the cruel delight, the twisted determination…
The utter madness.
As he looks into the eyes of the God, he knows that despite the differences in appearance, despite the fact he never took the "Shinigami's Eyes" deal, he knows that their eyes are the same.
Kira has the eyes of a God of Death.
And his last thought, as he stares back into those unblinking yellow orbs, is that with the yellow tinting his reflection, it almost looks like his eyes are honey-golden again.
His lips flicker with the hint of a smile.
Ta-da! A quick one-fic about Death Note, to celebrate my successful NaNoWriMo YWP win! SO, that means all of my fic will be updated soon! And I'm still debating what to do for Christmas on here. Hope you guys like this c: