Light is darkness

Light is darkness. Everything in him is false: his smile, his emotions, his identity. Though of his identity, I am already certain. Yagami Light is Kira. Yagami Light is a twisted murderer.

Yagami Light is my only friend.

It pained me, knowing that his amiable appearance was just a façade to conceal a paranoia both of us were guilty of having. It was all so fake. But that is who Light is. I can't help but think, though, that all he did was lie to me. I can't allow myself to believe that.

He kissed me, once. On the day it stormed. I had knelt down to dry his feet. Though he protested, he did not move to stop me. In turn, he dried my dripping bangs with his own towel. That was the only genuinely kind gesture I'd ever seen him do. Shortly after, I received a call. We were needed back at the office; my plan to fully expose Kira was going to begin.

We started making our way back in silence. After a while, I stopped walking. Light turned around. "What's the matter, Ryuzaki?" he asked. "…Nothing," I replied, slowly. "…I'll miss you, Light." I would miss Kira when I revealed him. Sincerely I would miss his company.

"Hey, cheer up," he told me in that characteristically fake voice. "You'll feel a lot better once we catch Kira."

Yes… I will. Light-kun."

"Yeah, Ryuzaki?"

"You'll always be my friend. No matter what."

He was quiet. Without a word, he came to me and pressed his lips softly against mine. "Thank you, L." I looked up into amber eyes, and in them, surprisingly, I saw understanding. 'I know,' his eyes said, 'I know your thoughts. And I agree. I am a killer, L; you and I both know I don't deserve the world I strive to create. But I must do this. I WILL achieve my goal. The world will be a bright and peaceful place to live. It grieves me that we must be enemies.'

"It grieves me, as well," I murmured lowly, more to myself than him.

"What did you say?" the brunet inquired.

"Nothing in particular, Yagami-kun."

He drew me in and wrapped his arms around me. "My friend."

I closed my eyes. Hearing him say that was difficult; logical as I am, I could not discern the sincerity of his words. But my heart knew better than my mind. For a moment in time, he was not a liar. For a moment, I was together with a dear friend.

"Come, Light. They'll be wanting us at HQ."

When he held me as I lay dying, we understood. The look he gave me was wicked; resigned victory over a much-loathed obstacle. Behind the pride, I saw a twinge of sorrow, some miniscule, subdued feeling, and the hands that held me clung tighter to me. The sneer faded as my vision began to dim. Discontent was the last thing I saw in his eyes. Discontent. Regret.

If there was anything real, it matters little now. Until he joins me here, I will never know the heart of one I fought so hard to love.