Light Yagami had died.
It wasn't sad, or gruesome, or even relieving. It wasn't anything at all, really. He had just... died.
Sure, Matsuda had shot him quite a bit beforehand, but that was just the last moments of his life. The fact that he had fought to live, used every piece of his logic until the very end didn't make his death itself any more remarkable. Ryuk had always said he would write his name in the Death Note when it was time, but somewhere Light had always believed he could bypass it. That he was above such a thing. He had imagined his death to be something great, and that people would mourn his loss. Not this.
To die from a heart attack, as he had killed so many before him, provoked something akin to shame in Light during that last second. Not for what he had done, but for himself. He had worked so hard and in the end his dream, his vision, his great reign was eventless. It was... humiliating. He thought of L, who would perhaps comment on the irony of it all if he was still alive.
When Light shut his eyes for the last time, he forgot it all. He forgot his appearence, his family, his award-winning intelligence. The Death Note, Ryuk, L, the task force and Misa. Everything was lost apart from the one, overwhelming feeling that he wasn't going to be remembered.
He was nothing.