Note: This was written in a few minutes during math class. Naturally, I don't own anything Death Note-y.


So this was how it ended. In the same way it had begun- desperation.

He tried to laugh but choked instead, convulsions racking his mangled body as he retched and struggled. Blood surged up from his broken lungs, and he turned his head to the side so that it could spill down the staircase, rolling scarlet drops pooling on the step below his head.

The angry cough faded, and the only sound in the vast, empty warehouse was his ragged breathing. His bloody chest rose and fell rapidly, in time with his shallow and increasingly weaker gasps for air. He felt blood welling in his throat again and gave a sick groan as he tried to turn over on his side. He would not die like this; he would not drown in his own blood. He would not…

In the slow turning of his head, he caught sight of a pale figure hunched at the foot of the staircase, wide black eyes dark with a mourning shadow. He began to move forward as the dying man stared.

"Don't mock me," Light spat, blood flying like venom from between his lips, narrow snake eyes suddenly brighter, livid. "You wanted this. All along, this is how you wanted it to end," he insisted hysterically, bloodied fists clenching.

"Only you wanted this," the ghostlike figure responded slowly, as though choosing each word with steady caution. His voice was an unobtrusive murmur, no more than a heavy sigh, like a blanket. He raised one hand open to the sky, lifting it higher as his focus remained on Light's beaten and shuddering form. Out of thin air, bone-colored ribbons twisted around each other, murmuring a quiet song as they merged and shifted to form a great white scythe that fit itself into the palm of his outstretched hand. "Quiet now, Light-kun. It's over; you can rest now."

"You of all people, you'll never take my life!" Light protested, his voice rising in volume and pitch with sudden horror. He pushed up on his heels and clawed towards the top step, but recoiled, a cry of pain breaking away despite his resolve to meet his enemy with dignity. He fell back a few steps, low whimpers huddled in every hoarse breath. "Why, Ryuzaki?" he almost sobbed, jaw clenched. "Why did you come back for me?"

"Who else would come back for you?" he asked. He paused, looking down at Light with what seemed like pity. He had never lived in peace, and he would not die happy; his life had been for nothing. Without further explanation, he raised the scythe and advanced towards Light, his steps heavy. It was as though stones had been tied to his feet.

"I won't let you, don't touch me!" he shouted; his protests ended in one final shriek of agonizing pain as the ivory scythe's tip brushed his skin. He lost his breath; one hand reached for the pale threads of life that danced above his head, but it fell short, landing heavy on the staircase. His heavy-lidded eyes fell shut finally, and, in his last living moment, his pride and arrogance dissipated. For a bare second, Kira did not exist in the warehouse. It was Light Yagami dying, a well-groomed and respected honors student trembling in a pool of his own blood.

There was silence for a few minutes as the scythe unraveled and dissolved. L knelt down, bloodying the knees of his faded jeans, and used his sleeves to soak the last traces of panicked tears from Light's face. Nobody would know how he had been when he died. Even as he ceased to exist, fell away into nothingness or wherever death brings us, L would allow him to hang onto that small scrap of pride.

He stood up straight- straighter then he ever had in life- and looked up at the sky through a ragged hole in the rusting warehouse ceiling.

"I'll see you there, Light-kun," he murmured, letting out a long breath as his pale figure faded away.


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