Rating: M - Just to be safe.
Disclaimer: Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi-sensei own Death Note and all its characters; I only use them for writing funtimes.
Author's Note: This is what my cynical mind concocts when I spend time mourning over my Leon's death — may he rest in peace — whilst listening to OST's. I'm usually against writing angst, but it seems I'm actually quite good at it. Reviews and criticism are always enjoyed~.
As I write this, let it be forewarned that I bear all responsibility for whatever repercussions you, the reader, may have. Though, I doubt the probability of anyone besides myself reading this letter would reach 50%, I'd like to make it thoroughly clear that I acknowledge and testify as witness to all truth spewed forth on here.
Perhaps, you are likely wondering, if I write to confess the sins and secrets I hold, I may as well have told the Task Force, as well. If so, then you have a large error in that naïve presumption.
Whilst the five of us may be working together, living under the same roof and fighting against the same evil that is Kira, we are not, by any means, closer than we once were the moment I revealed myself to them. Just as you probably have, they had the preconception that doing so had entitled most, if not all, of my trust and faith in them.
Should my estimation of your thoughts be correct, then you are wrong yet again.
Even so, I will not hold it against you. Clearly, you had made the same misconception that deep down, past my cold exterior, I am much like you all: "only human."
Correct?
And with the most austere of honesty I can express with this single sheet of paper and cartridge of pen in hand, I wished my habits would slowly transcend to pedestrian normality. However, such wishful thinking was of long ago, before I even had knowledge of what normal people did. Yet I knew my mind and sense of logic had developed in ways many misinterpret as the epitome or genius or arrogance.
I will leave that up to you to decide.
Before I come to an end with this prose, may I ask of you a favor? Yes? I thank you, sincerely; but what I have to confess is the utmost of importance. Meaning, you must not share it or gossip it to nary a person, as I know you and your tongue are sinfully tempted to do.
Were you to dissect it, its probable cause that you may not see it as a secret any longer — all things considered — but I'll stop stalling.
For a while, I had believed Light Yagami really was not Kira. I had been fooled into thinking that my desire to capture the real Kira was a goal he wanted to achieve with me as well. I had… hoped, that those sweet words he'd whispered into my ear as he touched me were filled with nothing more than the same wish I had; in befriending a man whom understood my eccentricity.
Indeed, what a blind-sighted fool I was.
As you may already know, as should the rest of the world, Light Yagami, was, in fact, Kira. Even after he had sworn to me countless times his innocence, I recognized the specious every time — for he would never meet his gaze with mine when he spoke. His sole desire had been to achieve the goal a megalomaniac, God-complexed man like him harbored: to rule the world with the veiling justification of peace. He expressed his need to rid himself of me — the antagonist to the rotting world's prevalence — handfuls of times, but I consistently feigned incoherency. Every caress and croon he spared held nothing more than his want to devastate myself as awful a way as he knew. Reluctantly, I'm inclined to concede that he had realized that need.
He was the poisoned apple, and I the faithful nightingale awaiting its full bloom. He wanted nothing more than to thwart me and watch as I fell limp in his arms; I solely wanted to have him profess an affection I knew had always been merely one-sided.
I like to think neither of us accomplished those tasks, single-handedly.
Regardless of both of us knowing it was pointless, we continued to slip away from the other Task Force members every other night. He continued to feign thoughtfulness as he violated my virginity, and I… I cried out his name with the façade of pleasure I had learned to wear from him. Despite those callous hands that bruised my hips; that voice that commanded my quivering, nude self onto all fours; that body that kept my pinned indignantly in submission, I could not bring myself to pull away. Of course, I could have — had I sincerely tried escaping those murderous hands.
But I would not.
I refused to revert to a world bereft of even false warmth. I knew I no longer held independence to live without that brutality he hid so well under a guise of tenderness. My emotions had gotten the better of me, and I no longer knew how to live without him by my side. I adored him to the point I grew thoroughly convinced he was the one who had become dependent of our relationship.
Now that I recall… I haven't yet described today's importance, have I? While I do mean the today of whence I am writing this, the likelihood that it is the same date for you is well above average. I will tell you, now, then.
It's our anniversary.
Today is the day of the first time he'd shoved me against my bedroom door and threatened to take my life; for he was Kira, and could toy with lives as he saw fit. I primarily assumed he had just gone insane, after being held in captivation for so long; but the moment I witnessed a Shinigami observing us — I recognized I was then his plaything. It was no longer a game of wits, nor of who could prevail over the other.
The cat had already devoured the mouse.
As I wrote this, I initially feared that his Shinigami would be watching me and kill me, should I have written anything about his identity. Yet, I knew it wouldn't do that — there is never any fun in killing one's only source of entertainment.
Therefore, I bring this final artifact of my sanity to and end. To you, the reader, who managed through this jumbled mess; I once again thank you for sparing my musings such concern. I hope with this, one day you, too, shall acknowledge that there is such a thing as "unconditional love."
It will be, however, the cause of your demise all the same; as it is mine.
— Ryuzaki