Dear Diary: Death Note Style
Author's Note: Written in response to a discussion with Pseudohanyou about whether one can actually write Death Note crackfic. I never shy from a challenge. Bask in it or flame at will!
Dear Diary,
It has been some time since I have written. There is no doubt now that Light is Kira, and being bound to him—emotionally and physically—is taking its toll. I am both drawn to him and repelled by him. He is my only friend and my one true enemy. This can only end in death for one or both of us. There is no other way.
But that is the least of my worries, Diary. Right now, I'm just trying to deal with the fact that he underestimates me and ridicules me for the way I talk, how I sit, what I eat, and that I snore—or so he claims when he yanks my chain at night and I nearly fall out of bed. Am I truly that pathetic? I have an IQ so high it cannot be counted, for heaven's sake. But wait. That's not the real problem either.
I'm sitting here in the dark, next to his bed, scribbling away, so close I can smell him. I need to be right here so the chain doesn't pull as I write. I can't risk waking him. I need to write this out, Diary, but he can't ever, ever know. If he finds this, he'll read all my thoughts about how hot he is. Those beautiful, wicked eyes. That snide grin. That voice, full of harshness and boyish vulnerability. And that tight ass. Damn. Better he think I'm an autistic weirdo than a fag pervert.
But the worst? It isn't any of that. I shudder as I touch these pale yellow pages. The truth is that if Yagami-kun sees this diary, I'll be ruined beyond redemption. If Light gets hold of this, he'll know the deepest truth: I'm a total Hello Kitty freak. My reputation will never recover.
Shit, he's talking in his sleep again. Something about apples. Gotta go!
~L