Light stood before his open window, peering out at the world going about its business below him. His moon-washed face was alight with an eerie, surreal glow, making him appear even more insane and twisted than he did in the light of day. He sat on the window sill and rested his bare back against the meticulously carved wooden frame. He closed his brown eyes and pushed his hair back from his face. How could these people be going on without any care in the world that the world's greatest detective had been buried in the ground less than a week prior? Light could still picture the face of the man that had come so close to capturing him as he lay, lifeless, in the unforgiving casket. Nobody had said a word when the young man had showed up at L's funeral. He was given a wide berth and clearly avoided, but no one dare speak to him. It was as if he had been a terminal shadow drifting in all his malevolence around the sob-choked viewing room. He felt a sort of fear surround him from all sides, as if his very presence could cause the very body chemistry to betray itself, turning the parlor guests into horrible, sickly monsters that not even he would recognize.

Light clenched his trembling hands into tight, white knuckled fists and let his sweating forehead lie upon the cool pane of glass separating him from the outside population. Why did he have go and keel over like some inconsiderate bastard? Didn't he know that he was never allowed to die? He was supposed to live forever, distracting the world with this ridiculous game of cat and mouse they played, knowing all too well that it was a vain effort. They completed each other in the most primal and vital of ways, and now he was gone.

"Do not cry for me when I am gone, Raito." he remembered L saying one night as they lay together on the floor of his office, nearly in the grip of sleep. Light's eyes had fluttered open gently to see the young detective propped up on his elbow, staring at him with an intensity that sent chills shimmying up and down Light's spine.

"Mmm?" He had mumbled sleepily, trying to snap his brain awake. He was no match for this man when he was fully alert, let alone when he was half asleep.

"You know fully well what I articulated, Raito, do not attempt to play the fool with me."

"L, I don't wanna talk about this right now. You're not going to die until we're really old and all our hair falls out. Go to sleep," he grumbled, rolling over onto L's chest. He felt the young man sigh exasperatedly into his sandy hair. God, how he regretted not spending every waking moment with him, tangled in his cool arms and inhaling the smell of him.

"I miss you, Ryuzaki...." he mumbled, reaching up to wipe the tears from his moist cheeks. His chest began to jerk and he forced his fist into his mouth to keep from sobbing. His father could not overhear him crying, not under any circumstances. He could taste the salt on his fingers as saltwater poured down his face. Suddenly, he looked up, the reality of what he had to do almost staggering. Slowly, he began to back up to the desk in the corner of his bedroom. Extracting a key from a book on his shelf, he unlocked the top drawer and removed the small, black covered notebook from the wooden box. Shakily, he wrote in heavy script

Light Yagami

November 9, 2007

Suicide

He let the book drop from his hands to the carpet. Then, taking a running start, he hurled himself through the fifteenth story window. Glass rained down upon him as his body punched the pavement, hard. His ribs shattered, puncturing both of his lungs and severing a major artery in his chest. His skull caved in on one side, allowing blood to spout from his open mouth and surround his broken husk of a body. Light's eyes closed, but before they did he saw the unmistakable figure of Ryuzaki, his hand outstretched and a small smile in his black eyes. He approached Light and bent down next to his frail frame. Death embraced him, and he willingly accepted, his hammering heart ceasing to beat.