Depression
Wake up. Have breakfast. Get ready. Go to school. Come home. Watch the news. Study. Have dinner. Study some more. Spend time trying to sate boredom with the few, trival teenage things he had time for. Fail. Go to bed.
It was always the same cycle. It was so maddening. By the time he was in his third year of High school it stopped even being frustrating.
His world was grey. Always grey. So lifeless and static he could hardly breathe. His sister and mother and father and friends all seemed to enjoy
life and have passions. All he had was a plastered on smile, more false even then the illusions of freedom and individuality.
Nothing good was ever going to happen for Light Yagami. He had known it long before he had accepted it. Now he simply had to repeat life, in its endless routine with superficial variation, until the day death would take him.
He felt tired all the time. He never used to feel that way. He never used to have to force himself to choke down breakfast, lunch and dinner. He never used to have to prick himself with needles to feel something. Life had always been boring, far to easy for him, but he used to have hope that it could get better.
But it wasn't getting better and it never would. The part of him that was "unique" or "special" would fade behind "Yagami Raito" the hardworking polite, perfect, honor student. Society acted like a machine and he was going to be the best little machine he could. Because as awful as he felt, it would feel even worse to let his family down, to know the true shame and humiliation of having everyone see exactly who he was on the inside. Deep down, he knew no one could love the real him.
Light was trapped in hell, he was sure of it. No one was meant to be as smart as he was. His intelligence was some kind of curse, setting him far apart from society and making him more and more lonely every day.
He was trapped in a superficial society of shallow people and hedonists.
Light had his path already laid out for him, he would join the NPA and become a Detective. Judging by the work he had already done as a consultant, he would be the smartest and most talented Detective there. He likely could balance his work with further education and he could go far using the intelligence and charm he had been given.
Some days Light thought there would be something of interest there. It was a hope, an escape, finally, his life could have challenge and interest and color.
After all the dozen or so cases he had worked on had been interesting enough. Maybe that was what he was born to do.
And some days Light thought that was a joke. Joining the NPA might help him for a while. Give him some challenges, actual goals to put his mind towards that weren't trivially easy.
It wouldn't last. Eventually, his work would become routine. The NPA would just be another prison. He could never truly make any real difference.
He should have died younger. When he had hope and before he learned how meaningless everything was. Duty and obligation were just as meaningless as entertainment and hedonism. He was living in a rotten world with rotten people, and he himself was rotten. Worse then anyone else.
"Raito? Is something the matter dear?" Sachiko asked. It took Light a second to realize where he was. He was at dinner, his food was untouched and she was asking him a question.
A moment of panic. She could find out how weak he was, if he let her.
"Nothing Mom. I just had a long day is all." Light said, giving her an effortless practiced smile.
"Oh. Well honey you haven't touched your food. You know you need good nutrition to power that wonderful brain of yours." Sachiko chided.
"Of course." Light said, and began chocking down his dinner. His mother's cooking was wonderful. He didn't taste any of it.
Light studied after dinner. Played video games, watched a bit of tv, read. He went to bed bored, crying phantom tears. Not because he was sad but because he was hollow.
The next day he had a chance encounter in Aoyama that would change his life forever.