Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note
*Spoilers ahead*
"When I was a little girl, everything in the world fell into either of these two categories: wrong or right. Black or white. Now that I am an adult, I have put childish things aside and now I know that some things fall into wrong and some things fall into right. Some things are categorized as black and some things are categorized as white. But most things in the world aren't either! Most things in the world aren't black, aren't white, aren't wrong, aren't right, but most of everything is just different. And now I know that there's nothing wrong with different, and that we can let things be different, we don't have to try and make them black or white, we can just let them be grey."- C. Joybell.
In Between Shades of Grey:
Not everything is black and white.
You realize this when you're older, more mature, and a part of you wishes you'd known that a long time ago so it could prepare you for what's to come.
Your brother is Kira.
Your brother killed millions of people; mostly cruel criminals, but that's no excuse for the good, innocent men and women that he murdered on his way to the top. All because they got in his way. All because they didn't agree with his ways, his order, and his opinion. A part of you wants, more than anything, to support what your older brother did. He was the best brother a girl could ask for- always so kind, helpful, and supportive- and you loved him. So very much. There was an envious part of you back then when you saw the praise that your brother received from your parents. You used to have to strain and push with everything you had to get a C in math. That feeling dispatched quickly, even before the Kira investigation. You watched how awful it must've been not meeting your parents expectations, so you let the jealousy go. You were only torturing yourself. So, yes; you loved Light Yagami. And you still do, despite the monster that he had became and quite possibly still is. But you don't accept his beliefs, because you simply detest the very idea of a person attempting to become God. It was and is sick. It makes you gag on your own saliva. Before the discovery, you hadn't really given Kira much thought. You were a good person; you never got into any conflicts with police, bullied classmates lesser than you (though you did have your fair share of teasing), or anything that would make you a target. So you dismissed the idea.
You shouldn't have. Your father was helping L to catch Kira, so he must be bad. If your father thought that Kira was bad, then so did you. You never voiced your thoughts in the past, because some of them were hypocritical and contrasting. You liked the idea of a world where everything was happy and filled with neighbors that always wore bright smiles. It was unfair, an injustice, however, for someone to manipulate the natural order. The world is filthy, yes, it was rotten to its core. But that's what makes it beautiful. The little moments of kindness. They were rare and hardly recognizable, but they were there. In trembling weakness, you found yourself wishing, in the darkest corner of your mind, for all the people you hated to die. You wished death upon them, but you regretted the thought. You don't think Light ever did.
He had a flaw. Light was blind. Not literally, but figuratively. Your brother failed to see that people could never be separated into two separate groups. They can be evil, but they also can be good. They can be good, but they also can be evil. They have different shades in between themselves, like flickers of different color. There is no black and white. Only in between. They is only grey. There is no good and evil. There is no bad and good. There is only imperfectness and ruthlessness, entangled with tiny seconds of contentment.
Light wasn't evil. The things he did were cruel and malevolent, but not himself as a whole. You know that's the truth, you always have, but a small sliver of doubt always manages to squirm its way into your mind. The doubt betrayed yourself, and you loathe Light. The frustration and sorrow built up inside of you wails to break free, it's desire to blame someone.
Who could you blame?
Your father, who took the case?
L, who was only trying to bring justice upon the world?
Matsuda, who was so innocent and sweet that he truly didn't know what he was getting himself into until it was too late?
The Shinigami, Ryuk, who broke Light in ways unimaginable? Unless he was already broken, which your mind cannot quite fathom.
Or Light, your brother, who you love so dearly, brushing aside everything he's done?
Everything is too much. All you truly know is your father is dead. Your brother is dead. Your brother is Kira. Your mother is depressed and consistently suicidal- you can hear her crying herself to sleep every night, you catch earshot of her whimpers and pleas to die, just like everyone else. You want to go to her, but, what can you say? What can you do? Nothing. Silence is better than any words you could speak. Words can't fix anything. Words can't take back time. Words can't put together your irreparable mother. Words can't make your brother see what you did. Words can't save your father. Words...words can never bring back your brother.
So you refuse to speak.
And you refuse to live.
You refuse to accept that your older brother was a monster.
You refuse to think that your brother could've been an influence on your father's death.
Matsuda and the others never tell you that Light was Kira. After he was defeated, they came over to your house. Sachiko had answered the door. You remember it like it was yesterday- mom had wheeled you into the dining room, and they all proceeded to ask your mother to sit down. They explained calmly, in a rash tone, that Light was dead. Kira had killed him. Only you knew better. Light was smart. Light was too clever to get murdered by Kira without having the last word in. That's what you assumed about your father, however, and you were wrong then. So this time, instead of crying, (because all you do is stay silent) you watch them carefully. The way they all avoid your gazes. The way Matsuda's jaw is clenched, as if he's refraining from telling you something. It takes you a few days, but you finally collect the dots. It isn't a one-second revelation, since the suspicion plays in your mind for days. It would make sense. Light's sudden retraction from the world, studying with the room dimly lit- there were plenty of signs. But Light, sweet Light with the perfect grades, sweet Light as the perfect brother and son, could never possibly be Kira. Yet it all fit into place. You slowly trace one dot to another. The sudden absence of your brother. The abruptness of how quickly and rash he joined L's investigation. Truth be told, it was the other detective's expressions that really told you.
You have to admit, Light was the perfect candidate for the job.
And when they confess further to how Kira was doing the killing, it was so Light that it hurts.
You're not positive, but you still don't hang onto that loose thread of hope that Light wasn't Kira, because that's always been your mistake. You can't keep hoping for something that never happens; that's just eternal misery. You grow to accept it instead. You allow yourself a few days to wallow in your misery, a few more to try and understand why your brother did what you did, and then you move on.
You tell yourself that you moved on.
But you still never speak or walk.
(You never really did move on)
A few years later, you meet Ryuk.
The death note. You've seen it. They held it out to you. You touched it with your fingertips, gently, but the very collision of skin and material caused a power-hungry need to grow inside of you. You're holding their lives in your hand. You can control life and death. You can fix the world. You had flipped it open, you can remember that day clearly, even clearer than when they told you that Light had passed on, and you read all of the instructions. You still don't speak. You don't look at them, you merely leave your gaze permanently interlocked with the notebook that ruined your life.
It was the death note's fault. You've finally found someone to set the blame on, and it's like a burden is lifted from your chest.
You look at the names. Some were cautious and lightly written, as if the pen had barely grazed the paper. Others were sloppy and you can feel the anger radiating from the one name. Lind L. Tailor. You had smiled dryly at the time, the first smile that had ever touched your lips. They were stupid to think that you were unable to recognize your own brother's handwriting, even after three years. He had helped you with your math so many times, his way of writing was etched on the canvas of your mind. When it's your mother's turn to look through it, her eyes don't hold even a spark of recognition. Doesn't she know her own son's handwriting? Apparently not. After she gives it a quick look, she hands it back quickly, like the very book burned her. And then she screams.
At first, you think she's had another meltdown.
No. When you glance up, there's a monster.
A real monster. Not the one's you see in movies or manga. It has a grin on his face, earrings, black wings, but sad eyes.
"Hey, Sayu. How you doing?"
There's no fear in your heart. It doesn't even bother you that he hasn't used prefixes. Almost like you've been expecting this all along.
And you bring yourself to speak, "Hello."
They all look at you, surprised.
Your mother is squeaking, staring at the creature with widened eyes.
"Mrs. Yagami," he continues. "I am the Shinigami Ryuk."
Matsuda says something to your mother.
You ignore them. "Is that your death note?"
He grunts a nod, then grabs an apple off the table. Light was Kira. "Take your death note," you had said, "And return to where you came from. Never come back."
Ryuk sinks his colossal, sharp teeth into the apple, juices spraying everywhere. When he finished, he gazes at you unevenly. "I can't promise you that I will never return to Earth. The Shinigami world is barren and rotten. Boring and dull, slowly rotting away like an apple left in the sun." You had frowned at his words at the time. He says it just as Light would've said it. "But humans...they're just so interesting." You can see the extra words that he wants to say: but none were more interesting than your brother.
You open your mouth to protest, but no words escape through your lips.
"But I can promise you this; I will come back after you are long dead and your grandchildren are nearing their demise. I will never come back to the human world when people you care about are still alive."
You don't want him to come back at all, but if that's the best thing you can do, then you accept it, just like you've accepted everything else. "Fine."
That word is the last word you say for the next seven years.
You eventually walk, but you're still a mute.
He brings you out of your shell.
At first he just talks to you. Asks if he was bothering you, to which you couldn't respond.
And you finally talk. It isn't something memorable. In fact, it's "could you please pass the ketchup?" and after you ask, you can't bring yourself to grow silent again.
You marry him, of course. You told yourself that you wouldn't, but it happened anyways. You didn't marry Matsuda, though your mother had teased you with the idea when you were younger and before you knew about the death note. In fact, you don't marry any member of law enforcement, thank God. You fall in love with a writer- the only danger he gets into is killing off one of his popular characters. You have two children. Two girls and one boy. You can't bring yourself to name the boy Light, but your son has your brother's eyes. You name him Soichiro instead.
But as he grows older, you catch yourself accidently calling him Light. Your husband questions you about it, but you simply say that your son reminds you of someone that you used to know. Light eventually becomes your son's nickname from his friends and your husband, and you can't bring yourself to tell anyone of what his nickname truly is from.
You never told your husband about the death note. You never told anyway. You wrote it down, though. Not as a story or a manga- you could never pull that off. Your husband was the author, not you. But little facts about how your brother was Kira and how your father was on the investigation team. You write about how Shinigamis existed and the death note was the greatest mass murder weapon that history would ever know. You wrote about how Kira might come back. About how Ryuk would return after you were dead and your grandchildren had wrinkles and grey hairs. Even if you want to tell, you can't. Who would believe you? Your mother had departed a few years ago...due to a heart attack. It was of natural causes, or you assume so. Either way, it was like a punch to your gut. You crave to tell someone, to get it all out, but if you ever spoke about death notes and death Gods, they would lock you up in a nursing home and give you meds. So instead you lock the document where you typed it all down and put the password in your Will, patiently awaiting your own death.
You're not religious. But you hope for death. You love your husband, your children, and their children, but you just want a clean-slate. It had been difficult living your life, and you want to start over.
You die when you're seventy. It's a younger age than you expected, but it's longer than any of your family had lived to. You're grateful. You decide to die at home, in your bed, surrounded by your fully grown children. Your organs are slowly shutting down, one by one. And your son who looks so much like Light is married to a brunette (not a blonde) and has a little daughter. Your eldest daughter never married and never had any children, but you knew she how content she was to be alone and working. Your youngest had married once, (at eighteen) had three boys, got a divorce, got married again, then had a bubbly baby girl. Your husband still hasn't passed, and you're happy for that. Not only because you never want him to die, but because you want him to know the truth. It kills a person keeping a secret as painful as that bottle up for so many years.
Death is coming. You can feel it.
It's night-time. Your husband had gone out with Light to the doctor's to pick up some more painkillers.
The window is open. The curtains dance along the open window.
Your wrinkled eyelids flutter and close, but they dart open when you spot a figure moving across the windowsill, casting shadows against your aged face.
"Ryuk?" you call, because it's a creature with large wings.
"No," the Shinigami responds.
You stare at him momentarily.
"I knew you would come."
He laughs and it sounds nothing like he used to. He looks nothing like he used to- his shiny, brown hair is gone, replaced with a hat-like object made from bone, and his beautiful almond eyes were now sunken darkness. He grins, flashing his spiky teeth. "I didn't think you would recognize me."
You have dreamed about this moment since the day they announced your older brother was dead. You envisioned all the words you would say to him, but now, they disappear from your mind. You thought about screaming at him, demanding why, but you know why. You thought about crying from his new appearance, from how you would never see him as beautiful Light again.
Instead, you roll your drained chocolate eyes. "You always did like your good-looks. How's it feel to look uglier than Ryuk?"
The smirk hasn't left his face, but you can see in his bottomless orbs that his eyes are filled with sorrow and regret. "As a Shinigami, I think I managed very well." His words bring a ghost of a smile to your dry lips. He's as arrogant as ever.
"I would say it's good to see you, brother, but I don't know if it is yet."
"You hate me." It isn't a question.
You do hate Light. You do hate what he's become and all the horrible things he did. But you also love him. It fills you to the brim with adoration upon seeing him again, despite his ghastly appearance. "I still and always will love you, Light." He blinks his orbless eyes. Even as a monster, the shock is evident on his narrow face. He turns away from her, a black book attatched to his side. "I will never forgive you for what you did, but after sixty years, it's become clear to me that I could never bring myself to truly despise you."
"Your children," he changes the subject quickly, like her words had scathed him. "They're beautiful."
"Yes."
"The one out with your husband- Light, is it?"
"He has our father's name, but yes, we all call him Light."
"I'm sorry."
"I know you are."
Another silence before you speak again. "Did you take mother too?"
He shakes his head. "I couldn't bring myself to. It was better that she passed on blissfully unaware."
For once, you fully agree with him.
"You're a Shinigami now. Is that what happens to all death note users?"
"After they use it, yes."
"And Misa?" You remember the blonde girl's suicide. It all over the papers. You never knew if she was Kira as well, but you eventually just assumed. What other purpose could Light had for her? It was obvious by now that he was manipulative and evil. Misa wasn't bright. She was bubbly and in love. That was her only crime, besides killing other people for her brother. "Have you seen her?"
"Yes."
"How does she look?"
"Not like her human self." He's blunt.
"Are you happy?" you ask abruptly, before going into a fit of hoarse coughs. "Is Misa happy?"
His tone is cold and sharp, but hopeless and fruitless. "No. No one is happy being a Shinigami."
You nod, but as you speak the next work, your heart constricts painfully. "Good." You love your brother, you hate him, but most importantly, he doesn't deserve to be happy. The 'everyone deserves happiness' quote isn't quite true. Perhaps one day, centuries later, your brother will make up for all the lives that he tainted and ravaged. Until then, he would have to live out his days miserable. You're okay with that, and as much as it kills you, you know it's right. This truly is justice.
Light looks away, his eyes burning into the floor. "Your time is almost up."
You smile weakly. "I know."
"I'm glad...I'm glad you lived it."
He opens up his death note, just as he did when Light was human and filled with nativity.
"Light?"
"Yes, Sayu?"
Your voice is strained, and you've already started crying, but you continue anyway. "I believe that you were always good. The death note corrupted you. I think that Light Yagami, the big brother who helped me with my homework, died the moment he wrote a name in the notebook. You didn't die when Near defeated you- you died when surrendered yourself to the Shinigami. When you were too naïve to realize that you couldn't outsmart the dark side of yourself. And afterwards, all that was left was Kira. Your purity had been diminished. There was only evil left. The evil took your good. I cannot blame you for that."
He didn't respond.
You brush a few stray tears lingering on your face. "Okay. I'm ready."
Light walks towards her bedside, and as monstrous as he appears to be, you can still see Light smiling. "Our parents...you...I never meant for any of you to get hurt in the process. I didn't mean to lead my father to his death. I didn't mean to ruin your lives. My family...Sayu, you will forever be my biggest regret."
You notice that he doesn't say he's remorseful for being Kira. Not yet. Someday, he will know that what he did was evil. Someday, years and years later, he will realize that you can't separate good from evil. They were both. Light was both. The only wrong he did was let the evil part of him win. He brushes your grey curl away from your forehead, then brings a pen down to the paper.
And just like it started, it ended.
A/N: I'm not going to lie, that was difficult to write. Death Note will probably be my favorite book/show/thing ever. I do wish that Sayu had a little more light, because the way she looked up to Light was just heartbreaking, especially in the last episode when I thought of what her reaction might've been. Hopefully you enjoyed reading, and even if you didn't, feel free to drop in a review! Follows and favorites are also greatly appreciated. :)
