Like Father, Like Son
Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Long time no see! I bet you've been wondering where I was. I spent the better part of a month working on this drabble before I lost interest in Deathnote. I decided to take a break from this drabble, but the break quickly turned into a two month long break. However, I had a burst of inspiration this weekend, and was able to finish it!
This is the first thing that my new beta, ThatOneGirlwiththeM, has edited! Send some love her way! Without her, this probably would not have even been written!
For those of you looking forward to the next installment of Playing God, have no fear! I will be updating it over Winter Break!
On to the show!
Pairings: Brief Light x Misa
Warnings: Character death, modified canon, angst, swearing, violence, an OC
Disclaimer: I in no way own Deathnote nor do I own any of the characters. I make no profit from this fic.
"Breathe and then give me a big push."
He was surprised at how calm and collected the doctor was as Misa screamed in agony, gripping his already bruised hand even tighter. It was obvious the woman had done this many times and knew exactly what to do. He wondered how she would react to what was about to happen. He glanced down at his watch.
"Almost there!"
Misa lay on the hospital bed panting, pale skin flushed and gleaming with sweat. Makeup was smeared and smudged all over her face making her look deathly. He had tried to focus his attention on her and not what was happening throughout the whole ordeal. That was what was expected of him. A bone-crunching grasp of his hand snapped him out of his thoughts. Misa let out a bloodcurdling screech of torment that hurt his ears, and then the room was filled with a sound that he hadn't heard in years; a baby's cries.
He checked his watch again. 3 minutes. Looking down, he saw Misa had succumbed to the exhaustion of birth. Her body lie limp on the bed, her mouth opening and closing slowly to gulp in air. Her vice-like grip on his hand relaxed allowing him to slip free. The doctor had walked away with the child to clean it and make sure it was okay. Now that no one was scrutinizing his every move, a frown appeared on his face. Glancing to his left, he saw that Misa was not bleeding profusely, but crimson had soaked the white sheets underneath her. He grimaced, and looked away. So much strife for such a simple thing. The clock on the wall ticked in the background reminding him of his own watch. He checked the time. 1 minute.
The silence of the room was shattered when the doctor came back in, a blue bundle in her arms that was still screaming. A thousand-watt smile stretched across her face as she happily announced, "It's a boy!"
A lopsided smile formed on Misa's face. Light reciprocated the action as Misa was handed their, no, his child. As soon as his child was in Misa's arms, its cries dwindled. She beamed down at him, gently cuddling him to her chest. Her blue eyes shown with the affection that only a mother could bestow. Enjoy it while it lasts. 30 seconds.
"Light...he's beautiful," Misa whispered.
Curious, he leaned back against the headboard of the hospital bed to see his son's face. Big, blue eyes stared up at him while the beginnings of auburn hair were trying to escape from behind the fabric of the blue blanket they were swaddled in. Her traits were good for something after all. Blue eyes are attractive. However, his eyes were drawn away from his son's own when the clock let out a resounding tock. The time was 3:45 am. He glimpsed at his own watch. 10 seconds.
The doctor made her way over to the bed, careful not to startle the newborn or the new parents. "You'll need to fill out a birth certificate. Are you prepared to do that now?"
Misa went to answer her question as he became increasingly distracted by the ticking of his watch. 3...2...1…
In that second, the room erupted into chaos. First, Misa abruptly stopped talking in the middle of her sentence. Then, the machines around the room began to obnoxiously beep furiously. A look of pure terror replaced the doctor's previous happy expression. His son, noticing that there was something wrong with his mother, started crying again. Nurses and doctors rushed into the room. His senses were overpowered with noise, but he briefly smelled the metallic whiff of blood before his son was forced into his arms. They were lead out of the room and into the hall. The nurse that had guided him assured him that Misa would be okay, but he knew that was a lie. There was no way Misa was leaving this hospital alive.
He stared down at the bundle in his arms that he could now officially call his and his only. The baby was still crying, so he tenderly rocked him back and forth. The quiet of the hall combined with the smell of its father lulled the babe to sleep. All he could focus on, however, was the barely audible ticking of his watch as a smirk spread on his face.
He had anxiously been awaiting God's arrival for the past day. Everything had been set up and prepared months in advance. The nursery was painted and furnished. The kitchen was full of baby formula and food. The entire house had even been child-proofed all thanks to him. It would be an understatement to say that he was excited for the birth. His days had been full of thinking of every possible thing the baby would need and how he would be able to fulfill those needs, so when God had sent him a simple text the night before he had been thrilled.
"Going to the hospital. See you soon."
Although, God had not communicated with him since then. He had no way of knowing if everything had gone according to plan, but he put his trust in God. The thought of an heir and finally being able to tie up loose ends intoxicated him. They had won the war a year ago at the warehouse, and now they could move on to the next part of their plan. He could barely contain himself.
The day after he received the text was spent unproductively. He had tried numerous things to distract himself, but even his daily ritual of writing names could not keep the thought out of his head. The child would have no relation to him, but the fact that it was God's heir and that he would be helping take care of it shook him to his very core. It continuously grew more difficult to focus as the day dragged on. By 9 o'clock at night, all he could do was sit on the couch and stare at the door, anticipating when his God would arrive. His hands clutched at the couch, leaving dark indents.
He did not have to wait long. Around 10:30 pm, there was a soft knock on the door. His head jerked up from where it had fallen on his chest in fatigue. He struggled to stand since his hands had gone numb from latching onto the couch. Almost tripping over his own feet, he hastily made his way to the door. He flung it open, unable to conceal his delight. When the door opened he was met with this sight of God. Immediately, the instinct to bow before him tickled the back of his mind, but he willed it away, instead bowing his head slightly.
His name flowed from God's lips. "Mikami."
He raised his head to meet God's piercing eyes. God was shrouded by the night, exposing only half of his perfect incarnate. Looking over God, he did not see the one thing he had been enthusiastically looking forward to. He did not let his confusion appear on his face. "Has everything gone according to God's plan?"
God smirked divinely. Then, he stepped forward into the light revealing what was in his right hand. It was the light blue car seat that he had picked out all those months ago, but now it was occupied by a sleeping babe wrapped in an equally blue blanket. He couldn't help it. A small smile found its way on his face, breaking his usually cool and collected mask.
God saw his smile. "Exactly as planned."
It took him months to learn to refer to God as Light. He still felt disrespectful every time he uttered God's human name. It took Light at least a month to get used to waking up in the middle of the night to calm the baby's cries. It took them both several times to learn how to make and heat the formula up properly. It took them a few weeks to get used to being tired. There were four incidents where the baby almost touched the Deathnotes before they realized they might need to be a bit more careful. It took them both less than a minute to find it in them to care for the child. They spent years loving and nurturing him.
"Hironori, pay attention, please."
He squirmed in his seat, trying desperately to get a closer look out the window. It was a lovely spring day. The perfect kind of day to go outside and play, but Mikami wouldn't let him. He told him that he had to finish his studies first. He had tried very hard to focus and be good for Mikami, and therefore, be good for Dad, but the thought of running around under the bright sun would not leave his mind.
Mikami sighed. "Tell you what, if you finish this last math problem, I'll go make you some lunch, and you can go play outside for a bit. Deal?"
His blue eyes sparkled at the offer. A strange look crossed Mikami's face, but he didn't notice it as he diligently went to work on the final problem.
Going outside had been just what he needed. He had run around, attempting to catch numerous bugs. Then, he had once again tried to climb the tall tree that always managed to get the best of him; this time being no different. Exhausted, he had laid down in the grass to stare up at the clouds for a moment before heading back inside prepared to work hard on his studies. He didn't want to let Dad down.
When he had walked back in a heavenly smell assaulted his senses. He followed it to the kitchen where Mikami was finishing up lunch. As he sat down at the table, Mikami handed him a bowl of curry rice.
He looked down at the bowl in silent awe. "My favorite!" He snatched the spoon to his right, and took a huge bite. A satisfied moan escaped him as the curry met his tongue. It was thick and warm. He wasn't surprised. Mikami always made the best food, but he would never let Dad know that.
Mikami left him to eat, and eat he did. He savored every bite he could. Each spoonful sent a wave of spice coursing through his mouth. By the time he was finished, he noticed that he had taken a lot longer than usual to eat. Not wanting Mikami to be upset with him, he frantically threw his dish in the sink with a clack. He dashed down the hall back to the study room. He went to open the door when he heard mumbling. Confused, he stopped to listen closely.
"Delete...delete…."
He knew that was Mikami's voice, but what was he doing? Trying to be as stealthy as he could, he gingerly cracked opened the door. All he could see was Mikami's back as he sat in his usual desk chair. However, the small TV on the desk's corner was on, playing the news. The reporter was discussing the crimes of a trio who had recently been caught. The screen showed their names and faces, and that was when Mikami began muttering again.
"Delete...delete... delete…"
It looked like Mikami was scribbling something down, but it was hard to tell from this angle. He retreated back, and shut the door quietly. He decided that he would give Mikami some warning that he was coming in. If Mikami wanted him to know what he was doing, he would explain it when he came in. If not, then he knew better than to pry.
Walking back to the living room, he called out, "Mikami! I'm done! I'll be there in a second!"
He counted to ten in his head before running back to the room, making sure his footsteps could be heard. This time when he entered the room, the television was turned off, and Mikami was sitting there with his elbow on the desk and face in hand waiting for him. He didn't mention what he had seen to Mikami or his Dad. He had been taught better than to eavesdrop. Instead, he kept the memory stored away in case it ever came back up.
"Welcome home...Light."
"Hello, Mikami. I finished a case I had been working off for some time, so I decided to spend a few days at home. Where's my favorite person?"
"Dad!"
He abandoned his toys as soon as he heard the door open. Mikami had allowed him the day off from his studies since Dad was coming home. Dad hardly ever got time off, and he would always come home late, too tired to do anything. He was proud of his Dad though. His Dad was the director of the NPA, and he desperately wanted to follow in his father's footsteps. Running into the hall, his eyes landed on Dad, who stood next to Mikami by the door.
He hurdled down the hall, grinning from ear to ear. "Dad!"
"There he is!" Dad exclaimed as he held out his arms.
He eagerly slammed himself into his Dad's arms. Dad lifted him up high as he giggled. His mind was going a million miles a second thinking about all the cool things he could do now that his Dad was here. He couldn't wait to show him everything he had been doing academically and leisurely! His Dad was going to be so proud of him.
"Kira is virtuous. I will cleanse this rotten world and make it pure again. Those who do good have nothing to fear while those who have sinned cower as they await their judgement day. Bow down before the righteous. Bow down before Kira!"
He was lost in the city. Television screens surrounded him as they broadcasted Kira's message. The distorted voice and elegant signature caused his very blood to freeze in his veins. He was alone. Mikami and Dad were nowhere to be found. Kira engulfed him.
Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as the voice grew louder and more passionate.
"I am justice and justice will prevail!"
"Dad!" he screeched out as the sound of Kira's voice began to hurt his ears.
A shadowy, black figure appeared out of the city smog in front of him. He could see the fiery red eyes from a mile away. Its arms were outstretched as it grew closer and closer as if to embrace him.
"No!" The plea tore from his throat as his body violently lurched forward off the bed.
His eyes frantically searched the room, hunting for those blood red orbs. Sweat made his pajamas stick to his skin uncomfortably. His breathing came out as shallow pants. After methodically studying every inch of the room with his eyes, he began to calm down. The eyes were not there. Kira was not there.
Still frightened, he clamored out of bed towards the door. He was craving reassurance from his Dad that everything was going to be okay. Dad dealt with all kinds of monsters at work. Surely, he would keep him safe. Once out in the hall, he saw that the light in Dad's room was on. The white seeped out from under the door into the pitch black hall. Carefully, he tip-toed his way there.
As he approached the door, he heard his Dad's voice. He stopped right outside the door. He was scared, but he didn't want to inconvenience his Dad if he was busy. He waited and listened.
"Ryuk, do you remember what I told you all those years ago?"
There was a pause.
"I told you I was going to reign over a new world."
Another pause. He assumed his Dad was talking on the phone.
"We've come so far. You're about to see that statement become reality."
His Dad chuckled. "Now, back to business as usual. Mind handing me the notebook?"
He was puzzled. Is someone here? He really didn't want to embarrass his Dad, but then it felt like someone was watching him. He could feel their eyes pierce his back. He needed to get out of the dark. He needed to see his Dad.
A few tears slid down his cheeks as he yelled out, "Dad!" Then, he knocked on the door. He meant for it to be gentle, little knocks, but he could feel their breath on his neck. He was panicking, so his small knocks became pounding fists on the door. Right when he felt a faint touch on his back, did the door open. He fell into his Dad's arms sobbing. His Dad hugged him to his chest. There was no else there.
"It's okay, Hironori," he whispered while stroking his hair. "I'm here. No one's going to hurt you."
Over the few days that his Dad was home, he felt mostly happy. He got to spend time with his Dad. They played all kinds of games together and his Dad helped him with his studies while he was there. His Dad taught him extra things that weren't in his curriculum. He liked studying with Dad more than with Mikami. However, Dad acted a little odd sometimes. He kept thinking back to the night when he had had a nightmare. It seemed like someone had been in the room with his Dad, but there had been no one there. He could have chalked it up to delirium from fatigue and fear, but similar things kept happening.
When his Dad wasn't playing with him he would tell Mikami to fetch him his notebook. He had said something about a notebook on that night as well. What made that stranger was that once Mikami had given him the notebook, Dad would retreat to his room for several hours. Mikami told him not to disturb his father, but curiosity got the best of him this time. When Mikami wasn't watching he would place his ear to the door to see if he could hear what his Dad was doing. He could make out the muffled sounds of a news report and a harsh scratching sound.
This happened a few times over the course of his Dad's time off. He felt a sense of deja vu whenever he would listen in on what his Dad was doing. The third time he did it he was finally able to recall something that had happened a year or so ago when Mikami had been doing something similar. He had been sitting at the desk watching the news while appearing to write something down.
"Delete...delete...delete…"
Once again, he kept what he observed to himself. He should not have been eavesdropping in the first place. If he hadn't been, he would have no reason to pry into his Dad's and Mikami's personal affairs. He would never ask them what they were doing, but if they suddenly wanted to explain their actions, he would gladly listen.
Although, the most appalling thing occurred near the end of his Dad's time off.
It had been a long, busy day. His Dad had taken Mikami and him out shopping. They had only been interested in clothing and home decor. He had laughed especially loud along with his Dad when Dad had forced Mikami to try on a pair of khakis. They did not suit Mikami at all. Mikami got his Dad back though when he made Dad buy a hideous looking, golden statue of a bird. Mikami said he was going to put it right near the entrance, so that whenever someone walked in they would come face to face with it. Dad had grimaced at that, but then laughed. Once they were done, Dad took him into the toy store where he bought him a new set of toy cars. Dad had looked awfully uncomfortable encompassed in all the toys, but he had paled when they passed the finger puppets. They had looked rather repulsive.
When they got home Mikami cooked them all a wonderful meal. As Mikami had cleaned the dishes, he sat on the floor in the living room playing with his new cars. His Dad sat on the couch watching TV, but hadn't looked like he was one bit interested in whatever had been on. Dad then casually began flipping through the channels.
"Call now and you-"
"Akira, I love-"
"Tonight's special is brought to you by-"
"Kira, our lord and savior, has left us tonight with this message."
His body had frozen when he heard that name. He prayed his Dad would change the channel, but his interest had been piqued. Dad was the director of the NPA, and he was sure that his Dad was still going after Kira even though Japan had agreed not to. Dad's moral compass wouldn't allow him to sit idly by as Kira ravaged the world.
"Kira is thankful to the countries that have accepted him so far. These include Japan, the United States, Canada, Great Britain, and Mexico. Kira is positive that the other countries around the world will begin to follow suit. Kira's new world is just around the corner."
He had watched the TV astonished. Surely, the world was not going to be fooled by this monster. Justice could not be obtained through sin. He was only eight, and he understood that much. His hands had begun to shake with fury. He had been mad beyond belief to think that the countries around the world were bowing down to Kira when if they just stood together, they could defeat him. Gritting his teeth, he had turned to his Dad expecting to find a similar expression on his face. What he saw was nowhere near what he expected.
Dad was smiling. It hadn't been an outrageous grin or smirk, but a small half-smile usually reserved for the quieter, sweeter moments they all shared. He was not supposed to be smiling at Kira. He felt terrified of his Dad at that moment. If he looked at his Dad in just the right way, it almost looked like his eyes were shining a fiery red… He had shaken that thought from his mind, and quickly rationalized the situation. His Dad was smiling because he was going to capture Kira. He had thought of some grand plan to do so based on the information he had just acquired. That had to be it.
"Let us hold our heads up high. Let us not be tempted by the sinful. Let us embrace Kira and his ideals."
He looked back to his Dad. The smile remained plastered on his face. His rationalization crumbled slightly. Surely, there was a good reason his Dad was smiling. The sound of clacking grabbed his attention. He looked down to see that the hand in which he held his car was shaking, making the wheels tremble. This was ridiculous. He should not be scared of his own father. His eyes flickered back to his Dad. The words formed in his mind, but melted on his tongue. He had felt his lips quiver as he struggled to speak. He could not bring himself to talk to his Dad. His fear held him back. Frustration built up inside him.
"Kira is justice. Kira is our God."
The television had only further aggravated him. The car had dropped from his hand as he had curled them into small fists. He swallowed, and met his Dad's piercing stare. His Dad's eyebrow quirked up at him, the smile still there. The fear nudged him, but this time he was stronger.
He had sputtered out, "Kira is evil."
He had never seen such a harsh look in his father's eyes. It was a look that sent shivers down his spine. The smile that had previously occupied his father's face had turned into a scowl. The tension in the room had grown to be so thick that he could barely breathe. He had not even been able to hear the TV in the background over his father's frightening gaze. Minutes ticked by without a word escaping from either of them. His Dad's face did not waver.
His eyes had threatened to spill with tears. "Isn't...isn't that right, Dad?"
His Dad's face finally composed itself. A calm look settled there. The panic that had been growing in his stomach faded a bit at his Dad's calm countenance. The tension dissolved, and he had once again been able to hear the TV.
"Now, let us pray."
They began eerily chanting, and his Dad had turned the volume down to where the praying became background noise. His Dad's eyes then settled back on him.
Dad patted the spot on the couch next to him. "Come here."
He had stood on shaking legs. On his way to the couch, he had almost tripped. He had gingerly sat down, slumping into the couch. Looking up to his Dad, he saw that he wasn't looking at him. His Dad had been staring off into the distance, this far off look in his eyes. The low chanting coming from the television had washed over him in waves, making him uncomfortable. He had squirmed in his seat. Then, his Dad had sighed.
"When Kira first appeared when I was in high school I was determined to capture him. I helped my own father out with the case. We even worked with L himself."
The far off look in his eyes had returned. He had assumed his father was reflecting on the past, remembering when the world had yet to be so greatly impacted by Kira.
When his Dad had spoken again he had not been expecting it. "We spent years on the case, barely making any headway. Catching Kira seemed impossible, and then the world began to accept him. It became illegal to go after him in Japan, but we were not swayed. We continued in secret."
"Dad is brave like that."
He had watched a small smile form on his Dad's lips. A hand had ruffled his hair.
"We were brave, but we were also foolish."
His father's eyes had then took on a glassy appearance. A look of regret.
"The whole time we were trying to catch Kira we knew that we were risking our lives, but we never took that to heart. We never thought it could happen to us individually." Dad had paused to take a breath. "It did. Everyone on that task force is dead except for Mikami and me."
His eyes had widened at his Dad's statement. So much was revealed in so little. That was who Mikami was to Dad. That was the truth of what had happened. That was why his Dad still worked hard to catch Kira, so that he could avenge his fallen colleagues. Adoration had swelled in his chest as he gazed upon his Dad, who he now saw in a new light.
But suddenly, the mood in the room had changed. The chanting in the background picked up rhythm. It had become intense and emotional. It made him feel uneasy, as if he were on edge. He had glanced up to his Dad to see his face contorted. His mouth had quivered, unsure if he wanted to smile or frown. He had felt his heart beat against his chest.
His Dad finally decided to frown, although it had looked forced. "Because of that, Mikami and I chose to not go after Kira anymore."
The adoration he had felt had been squashed with those words. He had felt conflicted in that moment. His mind had been going a million miles a second, trying to decipher what was happening. The conclusion he kept coming to made him sick to his stomach.
His Dad had turned his attention to the TV then. The wild praying was still happening. The drum beats had sent a resounding shock through his body, the chanting filling his ears. His father had appeared captivated by the prayers, enthralled by them. The smile from before graced his Dad's face. Terror had gripped him in that moment, his entire thought process coming to an abrupt stop.
"We, too, accept Kira. It is clear to Mikami and me that Kira is justice. The world has slowly become a better place thanks to Kira. A new world is being constructed as we speak. One where there are only kind people like ourselves. It's a wonderful thought."
He had sworn that his ears had deceived him. There was no way that his father could believe that Kira was good. Kira was not justice. Kira was a hypocrite. Kira was a dictator. Kira was evil. How could his father be so blind to that?
The mantra coming from the TV had slowed back down as the music grew louder in volume. He had watched his Dad listen to the music. It had relaxed him as he leaned back into the couch, eyes lazily drifting down. This was not his father. It just couldn't be. This was the opposite of everything his father was. He would not believe it.
"Hironori, Kira is not evil by any means. You'll understand it better when you're older…," his Dad had trailed off softly as his eyes closed.
His entire mindset had been shattered. He could no longer deny it. His father supported Kira. His father supported a monster...or maybe his mindset had been flawed all along. Was Kira really a monster or was he justice? His thoughts became muddled with doubt. Had he been wrong this entire time? His Dad, the one he admired and wanted to be like, was all for Kira. Shouldn't he be too?
The couch shifted, and he had looked back to his father. The sight before him chilled him to the bone. The black figure of Kira was latching onto his father from behind, almost like an affectionate embrace. His father accepted it, seeming to lean back into the touch. Black tendrils grabbed ahold of his Dad anywhere they could. The figure had been grinning from ear to ear as it encircled his father. Fiery eyes then darted his way, tempting him to approve of this morbid sense of justice.
A small flame had ignited inside him then. A determination to capture Kira, and free his father from the villain's grasp. He vowed right then and there that he would catch Kira. The fear he had once felt transformed into a motivator to succeed. And succeed, he would.
He stared straight into those fiery eyes and said, "I will bring you to justice."
It took him a few months to feel comfortable around his father again. There were numerous incidents involving a "notebook". It only took him a few days to block out each one. There were a few times where he asked about his mother, but his questions went unanswered. It took him years of homeschooling to get his high school diploma. It only took a few more for him to graduate from To-Oh University just as his father had. It took him two years to become a detective in the NPA. He solved countless cases, and made his father proud. He never forgot his vow.
He had been in the middle of checking over some data for a case when his cellphone had gone off. He had sighed in annoyance before answering the call from the unknown number. It was not unusual for unknown numbers to call him considering his line of work.
"Yagami Hironori, here."
"I am L."
He froze in his seat, eyes widening to the size of saucers. He had heard of L from not only his father, but from colleagues as well. Everyone spoke highly of him saying that he always solved the case. If L was calling him now, what did that mean? Would he be asked to help with a case? Different scenarios played out in his head when he suddenly recalled something his father had told him.
"Everyone on that task force is dead except for Mikami and me."
Was his father a liar? No, his father was many things, but a liar wasn't one of them. How was L still alive? What was happening? He loosened his tie as sweat began to form on his forehead. This was not a time to be panicking. Now was the time for answers.
"I have heard many good things about you."
"The same to you, Yagami. That is why I have called you. Meet me at the Teito Hotel Room 531 after your shift ends. I'll be waiting."
Then, he heard the monotone dial saying the other side had hung up. He did not move. So many thoughts were running through his head. He had no idea what was happening, but the one conclusion that he came to was that the position of L must have been taken over by someone else after the original L's death. That was how L was still alive. This L was still held in the same high regards as the previous one. To an outsider, it seemed like nothing had changed. L was still L, but now he knew better.
He placed his cellphone down on his desk, smiling to himself. He was thoroughly excited to meet with L. His father had worked with both L's, and both of them had provided his brilliant father a challenge. He wanted to witness this sheer intelligence for himself. Meeting L was such an achievement. He was sure his father would be proud of him and that was all he could ask for.
Just as he was about to get back to work, another stray thought entered his mind. Perhaps L could help me bring Kira to justice. He held the vow he had made in his childhood to this day. Over the years, Kira had only gotten stronger. More and more countries were accepting him. Criminals were divinely judged daily. He had not been able to do much until now, but that did not mean he simply sat back and let Kira do as he pleased. He had been watching Kira's every move since the day he made the vow. Kira was clearly becoming sloppier as his power skyrocketed. Kira no longer believed he could be caught, but he was wrong. With L's help, they could easily capture Kira as soon as he made one, tiny mistake.
His desire to catch Kira was ignited as this new opportunity presented itself. He dove back into his work, wanting to get done with it quickly, so that he could meet L.
He stood outside the Teito Hotel, admiring its pristine. The hotel was only a few blocks away from headquarters. He had passed by it quite a few times, but it had never caught his attention until now. It was obvious why L chose such a location. He could effortlessly keep tabs on the police and the hotel itself was extravagant. It would certainly meet all his needs. His eyes wondered up to the fifth floor. Behind one of those windows was L. He took a deep breath, and then headed inside.
After letting the clerk know that he was there to visit, he walked over to the elevators. Once inside, he pressed the button for the fifth floor. He watched the arrow above the door slowly ascend in anticipation. The silence of the elevator made his ears ring. His hands were in his pant pockets, but his thumbs refused to stay still. They continuously rubbed circles on his thighs. The elevator dinged harshly when the arrow reached the number five, making him jump slightly. A small flush dusted over his cheeks as he exited the elevator.
Walking down the hall, he rubbed his face. This is ridiculous. It's just L. That was the understatement of the century. L was a powerful figure, if he did something wrong... A gnawing pain settled in the bottom of his stomach. He could not mess this up. He didn't want to disappoint L, and he definitely did not want to disappoint his father. His stride came to a halt as he took in a shuddering breath. He could do this. He was not a disappointment. He was not a disappointment. The pain in his stomach faded away while his breath evened back out. If there was one thing he learned from his father, it was composure.
He glanced at the door beside him. The number was 513. He continued on down the hall until he reached door 531. He stood outside of it for a few moments, quelling any anxiety that still remained. He remembered the vow he made. It sparked the flame within him, giving him the courage to knock confidently on the door twice. He waited with bated breath.
The door handle slowly lowered as the door was pushed in. "I've been expecting you. Please, come in."
It was weird, but he knew that voice. He placed his palm on the door to push it open. It sounded suspiciously like… Pushing the door open, he came face to face with L.
"Hello, son."
The door creaked open wider as he stood there glued to the spot. His head reeled back in shock while his hands were removed from his pockets. His father stood in front of him, grinning from ear to ear. His father was relishing in his complete and utter awe. Meanwhile, the gears in his head were turning. His father was L. It made perfect sense. Everyone on the task had died except for Mikami and his father. Someone had to take on L's role to make it seem like nothing had happened. His father had always been on par with L from what he had been told. His father made a great successor. His father was L. It explained so much. Why his father had always been away for so long. Why his father never kept anything of sentimental value. Why he wasn't willing to talk about his cases in the slightest.
He scolded himself for not seeing this sooner. He should not be as shocked as he was right now. Pieces of the puzzle that had been missing for so long were finally clicking into place, but still some things remained unanswered. Who was his mother? Where was she? What was this "notebook"? Why did his father not want to pursue Kira? He still had many things to discover.
"It makes sense," he eventually said, somewhat collected.
His father chuckled. "I wanted to tell you sooner, but it would have put you at risk. Come inside. I know you probably have some questions." Then, his father turned on his heel, and headed towards the room behind him.
He stayed still a moment longer unsure of what was about to transpire. His original plans had quickly flew out the window. He was completely unprepared for the situation. He felt so dumb. How could he have not seen this coming? He shook those thoughts away for now as he headed into the room his father had gone in.
The entire room was ostentatious in design. The room they had entered was a sitting room with two sets of ornately printed chairs, couches, and tables. Flowers were littered around the room. Dull paintings hung on the walls. Everything was meant to give off a sense of wealth. He found it nonsensical. His father took a seat in a plush chair at the head of coffee table that held yet another bouquet of flowers. He took a seat on the couch beside him.
They both remained silent. His father seemed to be admiring the room around them fondly. Once he had done a casual scan of the room, he glanced over at him. "This is the room where L first introduced himself to the task force."
His eyes widened a little at the new knowledge. He looked at his surroundings a bit more carefully, fully appreciating it. He imagined what the task force members would have felt like sitting here under L's scrutiny. They had probably felt much like he had outside, but surely their anxiety would have intensified when the met L himself. What he would have done to be a part of the original task force. Perhaps they could have captured Kira then. Maybe they all would not have ended up dead. Maybe his father would not support Kira.
His eyes darted to his father. He was watching him, seeing how he reacted to every detail he fed him. He did not want to disappoint. "I'm sure seeing L for the first time was an awe-inspiring experience."
With a satisfied huff and a smile, his father turned to gaze around the room once more. "It was. Never before had I met someone who could intellectually stimulate me." He waved his hand dismissively. "Let's not linger too much on L. What are your thoughts on all of this?" At the end of his question, his father had turned back to him, staring at him indifferently, but he knew that his father was contemplating his every movement.
He realized that this was his one opportunity. His father was prepared to hang out all the skeletons in his closet at this very second. He wondered if his father knew how long he had been waiting for this moment.
He decided to start off easy. "Where does Mom lie in all this?"
For a brief moment, he saw shock flash in his father's eyes. Had he not been expecting a question like that? Never once had his questions about his mother been answered. Now was as good a time as any to tell the truth. The shock on his face was gone as fast as it came. "That's not really what I expected." He leaned back in his seat, eyes becoming somewhat glassy. "Your mother...she was a wonderful woman. I loved her so much..." His father trailed off. Clearly, the subject of his mother upset his father, but he wanted, no, needed to know after all this time. His father took in a deep breath. "I didn't know what to do. I was so lost, but Mikami was there to help me pick up the pieces."
He nodded more to himself than his father. This he expected. His knowledge of his mother was slim, and it appeared it would stay that way for the time being. He could only hope that he had made his mother proud wherever she was.
His eyes darted up to his father. The other sat slumped in the chair with one hand covering his mouth. He stared off into the distance, but he did not look sad. He looked apathetic. He supposed he had been years since his father had seen his mother. There was really nothing left to be sad about. His father had lived so long without her now. Still, old wounds stung when festered. He thought it best to move on from the subject into much more controversial grounds.
"You said that I was what made you start to consider not going after Kira, but why did you actually decide to stop?"
His father seemed to have expected this question because he smiled softly. He was much more prepared for this one too. "The thought of having a child that Kira could exploit struck home for me. While working on the Kira investigation, my sister Sayu was used against my own father. I did not want the same to happen to you. Even if I had wanted to continue to go after Kira, it was only Mikami and I left. There was no way we could do it on our own, and by then the world was changing. More people were beginning to accept Kira. Had we come out and said that we were recruiting people to hunt Kira, we would have been killed. Back then, it was just the logical choice to stop pursuing Kira."
He raised an eyebrow. "Back then?"
"When we first stopped going after Kira we were positive that we would continue as soon as we felt we were in a good position to. However, as time went on we realized that there was no longer a reason to go after Kira. Kira was justice. Kira was everything this world ever needed. We were safer with Kira. Kira was creating a world that I wanted my son to live in."
He stared down at his lap, watching his knuckles turn white from the amount of force he was using to grip his pants. His teeth gritted as his father went on and on about Kira. Was he truly this disillusioned? How could he give up after everything he had gone through? Kira was not creating a world he wanted to live in. If anything, Kira was creating a dystopia. A world that was not adequate for raising a child. Anger burned in his veins. How could his father think this way? It was absolutely unfathomable.
There was so much pent up frustration in him that he snapped. "How could you not go after Kira?! Kira is not justice! He is evil!" His breaths came in quivering waves, and he could feel the heat radiating off of his face. He looked up to see his father's reaction.
His father was looking at him with what could only be described as disgust. His eyes squinted as his nose crinkled. A hard set frown marred his face. His eyes conveyed the most emotion. His brown irises swirled with anger and betrayal, but most of all disappointment. It seemed like his father was at a loss for words; however, he knew that was not the truth. The truth of the matter was his father was trying to find the most appropriate string of words for his outburst. Something that was scolding, yet would defuse the situation.
When he did speak, he was not ready for the onslaught of raw emotion that would be thrown his way. "I had honestly thought you had grown out of that childish notion. How can you be so blind? You're so intelligent, and yet you cannot understand the simplest of things? Kira is not your enemy. He is your savior, Hironori. And, there is no way in hell that I'm going after him again. Kira is what we all need. That's something you should already know, but I suppose you'll learn eventually." The reprimand ended eerily. The last statement was said so matter-o-factly, as if his father knew something was about to happen that would forever change his perspective. He had meticulously watched his father's expression throughout the chiding, and had noticed the small upward tilt of his lips at the end; a half-way smirk.
His father stood at that point, rubbing his face like he was angry, but he knew he was trying to compose himself. He was trying to remove the smirk from his face. He had learned from the best after all.
Then, he stared back down at his lap unsure of what to do or say now. There really was no hope for his father. The man was completely brainwashed. He sighed to himself when he saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye. Spreading his legs apart, he witnessed two strands of black slip out from underneath the couch and over his feet. He blinked, and then followed them with his eyes. They dashed towards his father's feet, encircling them. His head snapped up to come face to face with fiery, red eyes. The black figure had returned even after all these years. It floated behind his father. Where its legs should have been, was a black wisp of tail that was latched around his father's waist. Kira still held onto his father with a vice grip.
He glared at the figure, remembering the vow he had made. He would watch the black figure behind his father perish. L would be no use to him now. L was under Kira's control as well. The only way he would ever be able to bring Kira to justice would be on his own, but L would assist him. He would start by looking through the old Kira case files.
A few days later, he stayed late at the station. He had come to the conclusion that it was time to get some answers once and for all. He was tired of not knowing. He wanted to know the truth. He wanted Kira to vanish.
He sat in his dark cubicle, his computer illuminating the small space slightly. Carefully, he stood from his seat, and straightened out his tie. While standing, he scanned the room. No one else was in the vicinity. He was all alone. He sat back down. The police database was pulled up on his computer. All he had to do was type in what he was searching for. It was such a simple action, but he sat there frozen. He recognized that a small part of him feared what he would find. He had lived his entire life not knowing. To think that it was all right here in front of him was almost too good to be true. He took a deep breath, and swallowed the fear. He had to do this. He had to fulfill his vow. He had to save his father.
He moved the mouse to the search bar, and clicked. Fingers gliding over the keys, he searched for all records of Kira. The slow wait that typically accompanied a search was suddenly irritating. As each second ticked by that was spent loading the results, he found his patience dwindling. By the time the results did load, he was ready to pull his own hair out in frustration. He rubbed at his temples, mentally willing himself to calm down. There was no time for this.
He checked the results. The first few were extremely old records of the Kira case from the absolute beginning. There were files that had been kept by the police force itself before L was even involved. He scrolled through lists of victim's names and information. There were notes jotted here or there of hypotheses for the killings, but nothing of major importance. The last result on the list was a memo that mentioned a meeting of the ICPO. He tried to scroll down further, but there was nothing. He tried different searches, but there was never anything pertaining to Kira or L. He sighed. He had been expecting this. He had known it was too good to be true. He would have to dig even further.
Next, he searched "Yagami Light". His father had on many different occasions told him that he had been a part of the Kira case since the start. Hopefully, something would come up. He clicked on his father's record. All that was there was information about the various cases he had helped the police solve over the years. Not a thing about Kira. He understood that the investigation had to be kept top secret, but this was ridiculous. There was nothing about the case after L joined in. His eyes widened in realization.
Of course, there was no data in the police records. L took everything or kept his own personal account of the Kira case. There was no way he would ever be able to get his hands on that information now...unless… A short burst of an idea came to mind. His father was now L. Surely, he had all of L's case records. If he could just get his father to show them to him or even hack into the files himself, he could uncover the truth. He went to exit out the database when something caught his eye.
At the top of his father's record was personal information such as age and weight, but there was a small line entitled Spouse. His eyes read the word over and over before they finally drifted to the right to read a name. Yagami Misa. His mouth fell agape in awe. His heart hammered against his chest, as if it were about to burst through. He read the name again and again, sounding out each syllable, mesmerized by each letter.
"Mom…" he whispered raggedly.
There was no way. His questions about Kira remained unanswered, and yet here was an answer he had been trying to snatch from his father for all these years. He had her name. But what did she look like? Who had she been? Where was she now? All of these thoughts pounded in his head, each one a sending a resounding shock through his body. He knew her name. His hand had gone stiff while grasping the mouse so tightly, but he jerked it back to life as searched for her. Yagami Misa. Mother.
He clicked the first result that came up. A picture of her appeared on the screen. He leaned forward to get a closer look. The one thought that popped into his head was beautiful. His mother was beautiful. She had luscious, blond locks and full, ruby red lips, but best of all she had big, blue eyes just like his own. There was no mistaking it. This was his mother. The woman whom he owed his life to. The woman he had missed ever since he was born. The woman he had never known.
But now, he knew her name. Yagami Misa. He knew what she looked like. A hole that been aching inside him for years suddenly felt whole. A weight off his shoulders lifted. He knew who his mother was. The panic that had overtaken him ceased. He knew who she was. No one could take that knowledge away from him now. He carved her picture into his memory before scrolling down to view her information.
Before marrying his father, she was known as Amane Misa. She had been 152cm tall and she weighed 36kg. She was born on December 25th, 1984. She had died on December 12th, 2010. He stopped. He reread. Her date of death was December 12th, 2010 at 3:46am. He lurched back in shock, pulling the mouse with him. The entire computer was dragged forward, almost toppling off the desk. His steady heartbeat had descended back into a frenzied state. His mouth had gone completely dry. His mind for once was blank. He could still see her date of death on the screen. It reflected back at him, permanently burning onto his retinas.
He had been born on December 12th, 2010 at 3:43am.
As soon as fixed his cubicle, he had gotten onto the Tokaido Line heading for Kyoto, Japan. In that moment, it hadn't mattered that it took almost three hours to get there or that it had cost him ¥14,140. All that had mattered was his mother. When the train had dropped him off in Kyoto it wasn't hard to find the cemetery. Finding his mother's gravestone had been even easier.
She was buried in her birthplace. Her gravestone was nothing special. It was a shiny gray oval with shoulders design. Her name and lifespan were engraved on it. Below that were words that would haunt him eternally.
"Beloved wife and mother. She died to bring him into this world."
For a long time, he simply stared. He was unsure of what to do or even think. He had learned so much in such a small amount of time. It was all so overwhelming. And now, he stood before his deceased mother's grave knowing it was all his fault that she died. He finally understood why his father was never told the truth. The truth hurt too much. In order to bring another loved one into the world, his father had had to give one up as well. How hard it must have been on him.
A rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. He would have to leave soon, but he just got here. A few moments spent at his mother's grave would not make up for the years that he spent in the dark. He wanted to stay here forever, lay on the ground above her grave to feel as if he was cradled in her arms. He wanted to sit there and tell her everything about his life. He wanted to see her smile. He wanted to hear her voice. He longed for her.
He took a step towards her grave about to do what he didn't know when his phone rang. The sound halted his movements. He gave one last, longing look to her headstone before turning his back to her. He exhaled strongly before reaching into his pocket to grab his phone. He didn't look at the number.
"Hello?"
"Hironori, I need you to come home."
A dull ache of panic coursed through his veins. Why had his father called him? Did he know where he was? What he had done?
"I'm working late tonight."
"Whenever you're done come home. We have something to discuss. I don't care how late it is. We'll be waiting."
His father hung up. He stood still unable to feel anything. He didn't care about why his father wanted to see him. The weight of his existence bore down on him. He had no motivation to move. He wanted to sleep. He wanted his mother.
He closed his phone, and pocketed it. He turned sideways to the right to see his mother's grave.
"I'll be back. I promise."
Then, he headed home.
It was pouring when he got off the train. Darkness had already settled down upon the world. Every now and then, the sky would ignite as lightning coursed through the air. He watched it crackled in the night sky as he stood underneath the shelter of the train station. He had not brought an umbrella with him, but his father's house was not far from here. Once the lightning strike dissipated from the air, he walked out into the torrential downpour.
He pulled the collar of his coat up to keep his face from becoming wet, but it was to no avail. The rain came down in sheets, drenching him to his very core. He released his hold on his coat. He walked on. Each raindrop that hit him brought him anguish. Each raindrop reminded him that was alive while his mother was not. He should not be here. The rain soaked through his clothes. His neat hair was now a disheveled, sloppy mess. At first the rain had been cold, now it could barely feel it.
He continued on his path until he saw the familiar outline of a building he knew all too well. The house he had grown up in. The house he had spent all his time in. The house that should have belonged to his father and mother. He felt sick to his stomach. She was everywhere.
He trudged up to the door, and lightly rapped on it twice. The door flung open almost immediately, somewhat startling him out of his despair. His father had opened the door for him. He stood inside looking cheerful. It was odd to see his father so openly happy; however, the smile on his face fell when he saw him.
"Hurry and get inside. What were you thinking walking out in this storm? You should have called one of us."
He ignored his father's concern as he stepped inside. A small puddle began to form below him. Wearily, he watched the water drip off of him.
His father regarded him peculiarly. "I'll go get you a towel."
He was left to stand by the door, wallowing in his own misery. It did not take long for his father to return, a green towel in tow. He placed the towel over his damp head. He grabbed two handfuls of it, and began to gently dry himself. While his face was shielded from his father's he tried to force down the dilemma he was currently facing. He had to act normal in front of his father and Mikami. He could not let them know that he knew the truth. He mashed the towel to his face, and breathed in the fresh smell. Tearing the towel from his face, he patted dry the other sickeningly saturated spots on himself.
He bunched the towel into a ball, and looked up to smile at his father. "Thank you."
He tried giving the towel back, but his father shook his head. "Keep it. You can sit on, so you don't get the chair in the living room wet." His father went to walk towards the living room when he stopped. He turned around to look back at him, something obviously on the tip of his tongue. It seemed like his father was struggling for words before he finally said, "Has work been tough on you recently? You stayed in pretty late tonight…"
He realized his battered appearance and apathetic behavior must have been worrying his father. The "work was running him ragged" excuse seemed like a good one to play, so he did.
He rubbed both of his eyes while stretching. "Just a really big case. I'm sure once it's over everything will be back to normal."
His father nodded. "Follow me."
They both walked into the living room to see Mikami sitting patiently on the couch. Mikami eyed his drenched clothing and the towel in his hand. His father noticed Mikami's gaze, and shut the other down with a look that said "don't ask". Then, his father took a seat on the couch next to Mikami. He walked over to the chair in front of the couch. He placed his towel on the cushion, and then sat down.
Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he steepled his fingers in front of him. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
A tense silence followed his question. He felt awkward as he stared at their knowing faces. What was all of this about? Mikami glared at his father. When his father turned to question why Mikami was doing that, Mikami's eyes fell on him, and then back to his father's. His father took in a deep breath before turning to him.
"Hironori, close your eyes and hold out your hands."
He raised a brow at his father who was smiling rather mischievously. He looked to Mikami for some context, but all the other did was nod. Cautiously, he shut his eyes and held out his hands. His mind wandered to all the possible scenarios that could possibly play out. Surely, they would not have called him here for a simple present. It would have to be something extraordinary to warrant such a visit. Then, he felt a slight prick on his fingers. He squirmed uncertain of what happened since there was no weight in his hands.
He heard the couch slink back down. "Okay, open your eyes."
Puzzled, he slowly opened his eyes to see that there was nothing in his hands. He lifted his palms up, but there truly was nothing there. He was baffled by the entire situation. He looked up to demand an explanation from them when he saw it. It stood by the couch's arm on Mikami's side. It was a large, black looming figure with grotesque, yellow eyes that shimmered in the dim light. A flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the whole room, revealing more of its freakish form.
He had no idea what he was looking at, but one thing did register in his mind; fear. Just as the thunder tumbled over them he let out a horrific screech. He collapsed back into the chair trying desperately to get away from it. He heard it chuckle manically at him, as if it was relishing in his terror. As he stared into those piercing, yellow eyes, he was reminded of another set of unforgettable eyes. Fiery, red eyes.
"Kira!" he bellowed so tremendously loud that his throat burned from the effort. His body was telling him to fight or flight. His attempt at fleeing was not working, but he was not prepared to fight this monstrosity. He braced himself against the back of the chair, pulling his arms up to block his face. Kira had always been just a shadowy figure. Why was he suddenly so gruesome looking? Why was he suddenly so terrifying?
"Hironori…" whispered a chilling voice that sounded an awful lot like…
His head snapped up at the realization, eyes growing wide. The entirety of his body shuddered as he gaped at the fiery, red eyes staring back at him from the couch. All the nightmares he had had as a child could not compare to the reality sitting in before him. He had never considered this an option, but it all made perfect sense. He was so stupid. So stupid. So stupid! He grabbed the top of his head in anger as tears welled in the corners of his eyes.
"There is nothing to fear."
It had always been his father saving him. His father was the one he admired. The one he aspired to be. There was no way this was happening. This wasn't happening. He was dreaming. This was all a hellish nightmare, and he needed to wake up.
"Look at me..."
He shook his head back and forth. He just needed to wake up. That's all he had to do. He could escape this. Just wake up. Wake up!
"Look at me."
The commanding tone that sent shivers down his spine was what made him look back up. He felt his heart constrict in his chest. His father sat on the couch, but his auburn hair was now tinged red. His once brown eyes were now fiery, red. He was smirking criminally. And that's when he realized, that he was seeing his father for the first time. This was who his father was and would always be. His father was…
"I am Kira."
He was speechless. The only emotion he could convey was fear. His whole world had just shattered, and he did not think he was going to be able to pick up the pieces.
"I know this is probably very shocking, but I promise you it will all make sense."
His father's voice was no longer his own. It was laced with an undertone of something inhuman.
"The monster you see in the corner is a shinigami. His name is Ryuk."
His eyes shifted to the other monster lurking in the shadows. The yellow eyes glinted in the dark, seeing right through him.
Ryuk cackled. "Nice to finally meet you."
"He is the one who bestowed upon me this great power. The one who made me a god with this." His father, no, Kira grabbed something to his right. He held it up, so that he could see it. It was a plain, black notebook with the word "Deathnote" written on the cover. His body involuntarily jerked. Tears slid down his face.
"The human whose name is written in this note shall die. That's how I kill."
Memories that had been long since buried starting crawling their way to the surface.
It looked like Mikami was scribbling something down, but it was hard to tell from this angle.
"Ryuk, do you remember what I told you all those years ago? I told you I was going to reign over a new world. We've come so far. You're about to see that statement become reality. Now, back to business as usual. Mind handing me the notebook?"
"Hironori, Kira is not evil by any means. You'll understand it better when you're older…"
He was forced back into reality when Kira began talking again.
"I knew I was the only one who could do this, who could become God. No one else could do what I've done. I defeated L. I defeated Near, and killed everyone on that task force. They were all fools. Kira is justice."
He sat there listening to the words spewing out of Kira's deranged mouth. He was hypnotized by them. He did not believe them, but the way they were spoken had a mystifying quality. A passion that could infect you, leave you willing to believe whatever he had to say. He now knew how Kira had managed to convert nations to his teachings.
"There were others along the way. Your mother, Takada, and lastly Mikami. Mikami was the only one that truly deserved the title of Kira."
The lull that had descended on him lifted at the mention of his mother and Mikami. His gaze fell on the man next to Kira. He was not surprised to see a gleam of red in his pupils. He averted his eyes from both of them to just think. Kira had said something about his mother. Had she known?
Curiosity, bubbled in his gut, giving him the strength to ask, "What about Mom?"
Kira's smirk of superiority fell at his statement. His lip curled upwards. "Your mother," he spat, "was a vile woman. She was the Second Kira, but she was terrible at her job. She just made so many messes that could have easily been avoided. I yearned to kill her for so long. Thankfully, she was useful for one thing; you. As soon as she had given me an heir, I killed her. She had long since worn out her usefulness."
His mouth fell open, more silent tears slipping down his face. His mother...his father...He ached inside, his mind racing. His father had killed his mother. His father had killed his mother. His beautiful mother. How could she have strayed so far from the path of righteousness? And after all she had done for Kira, she was tossed aside like garbage. How could someone be so cruel?
But, something else Kira said repeated in his head. "An heir?"
The smirk returned to Kira's face. "Yes, an heir. Hironori, you are Kira's heir. My legacy. You will continue to reign over my new world even when I am gone. Then, your son will carry on after you, and so on and so forth. Kira will never die," Kira ended enthusiastically, and was surprised to see that he was not as thrilled about this plan.
A neutral disposition replaced the crazed look that Kira had worn. Then, Kira stood. He strode over to him filled with confidence. There was no doubt in his mind that his son would not refuse the offer to become a god.
Kira kneeled on the floor in front of the chair. "Don't you see, Hironori? Kira is not evil. Kira judges the sinners of the world that would otherwise roam free for the good of the people. Kira is righteous. By eliminating the sinners, Kira is creating a world filled only with good people. It's a better world, and one that I wanted you to grow up in. In Kira's world, there is nothing to fear. And now, you get to be that force. You get to decide what is right and what is wrong. You get to become a god," Kira finished breathily, his eyes alight with ardor.
He could barely breathe. Kira's presence was suffocating him. In front of him stood a murderer, a raving killer who believed what he was doing was justified. His mind was covered in a dense haze, his eyes foggy. He was overwhelmed, but there was no way he could simply take a moment to think about the situation. Weakly, he gripped the strands of hair still in his grasp. What could he do? Through all the chaos swarming his head, a single image dominated his mind. His mother. What would she want him to do? His father was dead to him. Kira had killed him long ago, and there was absolutely no way to bring him back. All that was left was his mother. His innocent mother… She would want him to bring Kira to justice. She would want him to avenge her death. This would make her proud of him.
The grip on his hair loosened. He had no time to think of a plan right now, but if he appeased Kira perhaps he could slip away to ponder about his next move. He would have to lull Kira into a false sense of security, and then strike when he had the chance. The fire from his childhood sparked in his chest. His mother fueled the flames. He knew what he had to do.
His hands fell from his head. The tears flowing down his face subsided. He felt his breath return. He could do this. He knew how to manipulate someone. He had learned from the best. He looked up from his shielded position. The room was dim, but it was no longer pitch black like it had seemed moments before. The rain hitting the window behind him was soothing. The far off rumble of thunder eased his mind. He could do this. His eyes met those of the shinigami across from him. He stared into the bottomless, yellow pits. He was no longer afraid. His mother had been brave, and so was he. He took in a deep breath through his nose before turning to face Kira.
Kira was still kneeled by his chair, awaiting a response. Although his smirk had dwindled to a small curl of the lips, he could tell Kira was still confident that his son would follow in his footsteps. After all, hadn't that been what he always said growing up? That he wanted to be just like his father. Now, all he had to do was tell Kira exactly what he wanted to hear. He watched Kira's lips twitch morbidly.
"I see…," he began shakily. His voice was still not with him. Kira's lips had stopped twitching in order to evaluate his response fully. He felt his hands tremble, and he would have lost it, had it not been for the image of his mother shining brightly in his mind. "I have been a fool. You and Mikami have never harmed me. In fact, you've only made my life better. I suppose I never fully appreciated what you were doing. Thinking back on it, even my job is easier with Kira in the picture. Some cases fade out of existence thanks to Kira's judgement. I can see why you wanted to raise me in such a world. It is better than the world you once knew. I, too, cannot wait to raise my own children under Kira's glory."
He paused to gauge Kira's reaction. Kira was leaning towards him, guzzling down every word he ushered forth. The smirk had returned full-force, his eyes and nose crinkling to accompany the wide grin.
He rubbed his hands together, contemplating his next words. "I also wish to be your rightful heir. It is my destiny, and you cannot escape destiny. Sometimes I think that the world would be better off if someone were to just keel over and die. I think you instilled that in me over the years, so that I would be prepared for what was to come. And I want you to know that I am ready. I am ready to become a god."
For a moment, they all sat in silence. His own words echoed in his mind. They made him sick to his stomach. Suddenly, he heard chuckling coming from Kira. He looked towards the other as he heard the chuckles becoming cracked almost as if he couldn't catch his breath. Then, there was a sharp intake of breath before Kira let out hysterical, grating laugh that shook the room. A crack of thunder enveloped them, but the strained laughter could be heard over the roar of Mother Nature. He watched Kira apathetically. He had no respect for this so called god. What he saw before him was a mad lunatic too lost in his own fantasies to see the world in front of him. He wondered how he could have been so scared of such a thing.
"That's exactly what I wanted to hear," Kira assured him. Then, Kira snapped his fingers. Dutifully, Mikami appeared by Kira's side holding out the black notebook.
For a split second, he was afraid again. He did not want to touch the murder weapon. He did not want to feel the thing that killed his mother. He did not want the weight of a thousand dead souls bearing down on him.
Kira cautiously grabbed the notebook from Mikami. Once the book was safely in his hands, he nodded, and Mikami took his place back on the couch. Kira glanced down at the notebook in his grasp, and then stared at him. He bestowed the notebook before him, and said, "Take good care of it. It was your mother's."
The cruel leer directed at him and the tone of voice used all signaled to him that the comment was meant as some sick joke, but the same comment put him at ease. The notebook was his mother's. He would get to feel exactly what she had. Like before, the thought of his mother chased away his fear. He took a firm hold of the book, and then pulled it towards him. He ran his thumbs over the leather cover, imagining that his mother had done the same. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still feel her warmth radiating off of it.
He lifted his head back to Kira. "I will."
It was 4:56am. He has been in his old room for hours, trying to determine his next move. After being handed his mother's Deathnote, he told Kira and Mikami that he needed rest. He had had a long day at work, and the joy of becoming a God had zapped the last of his energy. They had both agreed it was rather late, and told him to stay the night in his childhood room. When he had walked in he was amazed to find that it looked exactly as he had left it when he went off to study at To-Oh University. He did not spend much time indulging in nostalgia, however. In his room, he had no longer been under the scrutinizing gaze of Kira. A weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He no longer had to act. He trudged to his perfectly made bed, and threw himself on it, sobbing quietly.
For a long time, he did nothing but cry. He cried over his father. He cried over his fate. He cried over all the lives Kira had taken. But most of all, he cried over his mother. At one point, he brought the Deathnote to his face, and kissed it softly, hoping that his mother would somehow receive his love. In his desperation and panic, he had pressed the Deathnote to his wet face, attempting to be comforted by whatever remained of his mother's presence on the object. He swore he smelled the faint scent of lilac.
Once his panic had died down, he was able to think clearly. He used the blanket on his bed to wipe the dampness from the cover of the Deathnote. Then, he opened it to reveal pages littered with names. He recognized none of them, but felt sympathy all the same. Every once in a while, his fingers would reach up to ghost over the letters. He did this to remember those lost, but also to feel his mother's handwriting. Her calligraphy was neat, and somehow reminded him of his own. He flipped through each and every page of the Deathnote until there were no names left. He then closed the notebook, and set it to his side.
He had laid on his bed in the same position for quite some time simply processing everything that had happened. Sleep was out of the question. Although his body may have been tired, his mind was racing. It was time he planned his next move. What was he going to do about all this? He couldn't sit here crying about it forever. At some point, he had to take action, but what? His first thought had been to turn Kira and Mikami over to the authorities. Kira would surely be brought to justice and this whole thing could end, but the more he thought about it, the more that idea didn't seem right. For one, it was a very anticlimactic ending. He would just hand over Kira and Mikami to the police and have them handle it. Kira and Mikami would most definitely be given the death penalty, and then executed. End of story. How dull. He wanted Kira to be brought to justice, not just executed. He wanted to avenge his mother. He wanted Kira to suffer like his own victims, but how could he-
He had shot up off the bed at his realization. He could make Kira suffer just as his victims had. His head snapped to the Deathnote sitting next to him. He openly gaped at it. Kira had given him the ultimate murder weapon. With this, he could truly serve Kira his own sadistic form of justice. He could make him suffer. He could make his mother proud.
He had felt his own sinister smirk slide into place on his face as he picked the notebook up.
That was how he had ended up here, notebook in one hand, and pen in the other. He was still sitting on his bed, Deathnote clutched to his chest as he rocked back and forth waiting for his moment to strike. He felt so giddy. The flames within licked at his insides. Kira was going to be brought to justice by his own hand. He was going to avenge his mother. All was right with the world. All he had to do was wait. So he did.
At 8:34am, he hears them. They're both in the living room discussing some mundane thing that he simply doesn't care about right now. Because right now, is his time to strike. He takes in a deep breath before he stands from the bed. Quietly, he walks to his door. He presses his ear to it like all those times before, and listens. They're still talking. Still unaware of what is about to happen. He cannot help the grin spreading on his face. He's so happy! He looks down at the notebook to see his hands shaking from excitement. He flips open the notebook to the last page of names. Then, he places the tip of his pen to the very next page. In scratchy handwriting, he puts Yagami Light and Mikami Teru while picturing their faces in his mind.
Once the deed is done, he turns the doorknob. He's counting the seconds down in his head as he creeps down the hall. The Deathnote is still shoved against his chest, his lifeline. He can hear their voices increasing in volume as he gets closer. The smirk on his face will not fall. Once he makes it to the living room, it's been 25 seconds. He finally composes himself, willing the smirk to go away. He steps into the room.
Immediately, Kira and Mikami's attention is on him. The damn shinigami is standing beside Kira cackling manically, no doubt having known what was going to happen way before any of them did.
"Good morning, Hironori," Kira says casually, oblivious of what is about to transpire. Mikami nods at him.
It's been 30 seconds since he wrote their names down.
He steps in front of the coffee table, effectively blocking the TV that is playing the news. Kira raises an eyebrow at his behavior.
He counts 35 seconds, then speaks. "This is for mom. This is for the sake of the world. I vowed to catch Kira and now I have. Kira is no god. Kira is going to vanish right before my very eyes like the mortal he is. Goodbye, Mikami. Goodbye father."
Everything had gone according to plan for so long. He never anticipated that he would fail, not even at the warehouse all those years ago. Failure was not something he considered. It was not an option. He supposed that was why he never doubted that his son would take over for him as Kira. In hindsight, he should have instilled a respect for Kira since the very beginning. It was too late to do anything now.
Oddly, the terror doesn't set in until he feels the sharp pain in his chest, signaling his demise. In a sudden panic, all he can think is that he doesn't want to die. He's not done. He's new world has not become a reality. He is a god. He cannot die.
Then, he sees Mikami slump backward on the couch, hand clenching around his heart. Mikami stops moving after that. He hears himself gasp, and recognizes that he is falling to the floor, but he can't do anything about it. He's in so much pain. His face meets the beige carpet below.
He wonders where he went wrong. And yet, as he gazes up at his son's demented face he knows that he did nothing wrong. There are just some things you cannot control. He raised a fine son and an even better god who took justice into his own hands, just not the way he would have liked him to.
"Goodbye, father," he hears. His attention is focused on Hironori. He cannot comprehend anything else. He is dying.
As he stares at Hironori's twisted face, he is reminded of himself. Yes, he did a fine job in raising his child because he did exactly as his father had. In his last moments, he remembers his own father, Soichiro. He had killed him in almost the same fashion, had he not?
Like father, like son.
He's back in Kyoto. He walks through the cemetery gate confidently. He is on a mission. He grips the strap of his messenger bag tightly in his hand. He makes it to her grave. It's the same as it was yesterday, but now draped in the orange glow of the sunset, it seems even more beautiful. Light shines down on him as he approaches her tombstone. He knows it is her smiling down on him. She is proud of what he did. She proud of him for avenging her. She is proud of him.
Casually, he scans the surrounding area. No one is around. He opens his bag, and pulls out two identical black notebooks. It had not been hard to find the other one once the two of them were out of the picture. He grabbed it before the police showed up, and had left once they took the bodies away. People dying of heart attacks suddenly were common nowadays. Their questioning are been straightforward and brief. He placed one of the notebooks on her grave, and then thumbed through the other one. There were a lot more names in this one, but it was all the same. He shut it with a hint of annoyance before placing it beside the other one.
He caressed the tombstone before standing up straight. He reached into his pocket to pull out the matches he had brought with him.
"You're burning them? Your father was a lot more fun than you."
He ignored the shinigami behind him. He knew the monster would leave as soon as his notebook was destroyed. And then, he would be free.
He lit one of the matches, watching it spark to life. As his own flame died within him, this one burned fiercely. He tossed the match onto the notebooks, and watched on solemnly as they burned to ashes. At some point, the shinigami had flown away. He didn't care. He followed the last bit of smoke as it flew up. All that remained of the notebooks were ashes. He grinned out to the orange horizon in front of him.
"Are you proud of me, Mom?"
Author's Note: What? No footnotes? That's right! For all my new writings, I will not be adding footnotes except for important information. Footnotes have become tedious to write, and I feel that they interrupt the flow of the story!
Also, L did first meet the Task Force in the Teito Hotel. There was no room number given, so I made one up.
This was a lot of fun to write and I have many more drabble ideas, so be looking forward to those!
My tumblr is yaoiobsessedwrites. I will be posting this on there as well as some other writings. Feel free to send me prompts, ask questions, or just talk on my tumblr!
Also, if you'd like me to write you a drabble I am always open to requests. Just send me a PM and I'll be happy to write something for you!
Now for the RQOTD. It stands for Random Question Of The Day and all you have to do is answer it in a PM or review!
RQOTD: Was it Great, Good, Okay, Bad, or Terrible?
Leave me an answer in a reivew or PM!
Thanks for reading!