Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, thank goodness. Nor any related characters - what a pity.
Night is an excellent time if you spend it in a loud merry company, dancing to the lively music close by lovely girls whom you see for the first and most likely the last time in your life; when you're tipsy and your eyes sparkle with careless joy, and you simply revel in this life, having all the affairs pushed away – just at least for a few blissful night-party hours.
The utter difference is night when you stay alone in your dark, still and empty apartment, and neither pulled down blinds nor pulled up blankets can save you from the white mole-covered full moon staring at you in a shameless x-ray manner, scanning through your deepest thoughts and dragging out the most scaring, the most complicated doubts and fears, diffidence and uncertainty of your heart. And there's no escape from that deathly-pale all-seeing eye; it hangs straight facing your bedroom's window, looking for your mind, longing for your despair, waiting for your helpless silent tears.
You vaguely realize at the moment that your behaviour is foolish and childish; you know the shafts of light will dispel all the gloom completely. But you are fairly weak to resist the eerie influence of a distant inanimate satellite that for some reason made it a monthly rule to check your implied inner strength.
Next morning, when the alarm gets you out of sticky unrestful sleep, you feel sick and tired, but you can barely recall the disturbing feelings that were getting you down in the darkness. A half-day passes, and you put them behind completely. You are a blithe happy-go-lucky boy again, the one everybody got used to see, and they can't cast even the slightest suspicion that something has been wrong with you. Whatever distress it was – now it's all gone away, and that's great, 'cause you really needn't more probable troubles than your actual work gives you to worry about.
You have enough time to enjoy life and yourself - till the next full moon will rise, ready to watch after people capable of sensing its power. After all of them – and particularly after you.
A/N: So you've read it, and thus deserved a bit of explanation. This futile vignette spontaneously came out of my personal experience and was written down mostly in the same sombre mood like the one it tells about. Moon influences, it really does. *sigh* Why Matsuda, then? He simply seems to fit the type. Review?