Author's Note: A huge thank you to Evide for betaing!!
Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable from Death Note. Everything from Death Note belongs to the mysterious individual called Tsugumi Ooba whose identity is widely speculated on an international level.
It Was Absurdity
Light glared at the darkness outside the window.
He had everything he'd ever wanted, and more. He had the power to kill anyone at will, and was using it well. Crime was scarce throughout the world. He had a group of people willing to do his bidding at the drop of a hat, so long as he kept up the pretense that it was all to capture Kira. With L gone, there was no one to pose as a serious threat to Kira, and Light couldn't have had it any easier. Light had a pretty girlfriend—a model, at that—who lived with him, catered to his every need, could help him out with his ultimate goal in life, and offered herself up to him like he was a god.
He had it all.
Yet, every night, when Misa lay asleep in their bed and all was silent, he slipped out of bed to stand by the window and look out at the dark city.
It seemed like depressed, unhappy behaviour when he thought about it. But he wasn't. He was happy. More than happy, actually. Nothing stood in his way. He had free reign of the world. He was a god!
When he stood by the window at nights and thought about L, he was just reflecting on how he had made it this far in life through all that had once stood in his way. On how those obstacles really hadn't been all that serious after all.
L had been smart. More than smart, really. Right off the bat, he'd narrowed Kira's location down to one tiny area of Japan out of the entire world. And then, quicker than should have even been possible, he'd narrowed down all possible Kiras to Light and Light alone. Then had ensued their battle of wits. L refused to assert his certainty of Kira's identity until he had proof, and Light refused to give him that proof. So they had stepped together in the most dangerous of dances, each just waiting for the other to make a mistake—for any mistake, no matter how small, would be lethal.
Theirs had been a duel of wills and minds to the death, and looking back, Light knew that he had enjoyed it. It had been a challenge—a good one—and the world didn't often manage to come up with those.
Naturally, Light had won in the end. L had died; fallen right before Light's eyes. Though kept entirely secret, theirs had been a good game, well played on both sides. Light had never had to exert so much will power or put so much thought into a challenge.
And yet from the moment that L had died, the world had begun to taste bland. Like cardboard. It was silly, really. He had won. Shouldn't he be happy?
Apparently not.
The little void hadn't been all that noticeable at first. Just the occasional thought of, "I couldn't have said that if L were here; he'd have leapt at it." As time had gone by, things had grown worse; Light had started to notice himself beginning to slip alarmingly often. In trying to counter that, Light began to imagine what L would have done; but then he found himself beginning to mutter responses to L's imagined comments. Then there were his nighttime thoughts at the window, when he "reflected" on how things had been when L had been around.
Lastly, every so often, when he was tired and exhausted after a few long days with no sleep and barely any food, he found himself thinking back to L, and wishing that he could have stayed on his toes at least a little longer.
"If you were so smart," Light found himself muttering before he knew it, "Then why are you dead?"
Then he realized what he had just said and turned from the window, rolling his eyes. Him, savior of the world, attached to his dead rival and only obstacle? The mere thought was laughable.
It was absurdity, Light assured himself as he slipped back into bed beside Misa.