Incarceration
Day ten and Light wanted to scream. Resting his head back on the covers of his bed, he searched desperately for something of even small interest on the ceiling of the room to distract from the constant and complete ennui. Even the aching pain in his wrists failed to cut through the boredom now, and Light was quite sure that there was only one thing in this place keeping him sane.
I'm not Kira.
With a sigh he allowed himself to slip sideways to the floor. Here, he at least had the numerical patterns of the bars to consider and pretending he hadn't already counted them time and time and time again, he carefully focused on each one, before sounding out it's designated number in his mind before moving on to the next one. There were thirteen, and yet again Light felt a dull amusement at the irony sluggishly roll through his thoughts. He would have to go back and count them again of course; it was impossible to be certain of something without corroborating the evidence after all.
So he did. Naming the separate bars in Japanese, then English, then German, then French…
"Yagami-kun."
Light jerked as his concentration fell away from him, and glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room.
"Yagami-kun, if you would like to admit you are Kira, this would all be over."
With a sigh Light allowed his head to fall back to the floor again, and he stared tiredly at the bars. "I am not Kira, and I will not lie to prove your incorrect hypothesis. Ryuuga," Light pulled his head from the floor again and glared up at the camera. "Stop asking questions I've already told you the answers to! Kira is out there, he may not be killing but he's out there! We have to find him Ryuuga and I can't help you locked up in this tiny little room!" He restrained the quiet urge to say 'cell' and remained staring at the camera, a defiant tilt to his chin.
There was silence for a few brief seconds.
"Very well Yagami-kun. If you cannot admit to being Kira then you shall have to remain there."
Light heard the tell-tale click that signalled the end of the conversation, and although all he wanted to do was jump up and scream at the offending observer, he simply lay his head down softly on the cold concrete floor and waited.
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Day twenty-one, and Light had screamed. The boredom was all-consuming, and he screamed simply to garner a reaction.
It was swift.
"Yagami-kun. May I inquire as to why you felt the need to scream?"
Light coughed once, feeling the harsh pull of his suddenly abused throat and the clinging of greasy curls to the side of his face. "I was bored."
The silence was almost mocking, and Light grimaced as he pulled his damp forehead away from the wall and turned to lean the cold weight of his hands (cuffed) against it's unyielding substance.
"Yagami-kun, please refrain from releasing your boredom in such a vocal way."
Light snorted and grinned. "Come down here and make me!" And he screamed again, wishing for the first time to have his hands free just long enough to gesture at the glaring lens.
"Yagami-kun, if you do not stop I shall have Mogi-san gag you."
It was galling to admit his sudden fear, even to himself, but as he let his scream tail out he knew his reluctance to bring the punishment upon himself was obvious.
As the piercing silence hung cold around him, Light came upon a sudden epiphany.
This was not normal behaviour for him.
The realisation was shocking and chilled him to the very core of his bones. After only twenty-one days in this room (cell) he was already showing the adverse affects of his incarceration. It horrified him, forcing him to reassess his beliefs in his own capabilities.
And that was a terrifying experience in itself.
"Yagami-kun, it has now been twenty-one days without Kira killing anyone. At this point it is becoming highly likely that you are the first Kira and Misa Amane is the second. It is worthless for you to keep pretending any longer Yagami-kun. Are you Kira?"
No. No, his behaviour wasn't abnormal in anyway, Light assured himself. It was merely a reaction to the constant accusations, the accusations that were all lies.
"Ryuuga, I am not Kira." Light off-handedly murmured to the red light in the high corner, continuing to stare at the bars on the other side of the room (prison) as he began to label them with primes and then to multiply them by each other and then to multiply the answers by each other and then to multiply those answers by each other until even the last numbers he had thought of choked in the confusing mass of mathematics and he had to start all over again to count the primes.
After all, his actions were justified in this boredom.
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Day thirty-seven and Light could feel the atrophy of his muscles set in. The constant thrums of cramp in his wrists and upper-arms had him twisting to try and ease the pain even slightly. At least he could walk some of it off when the agony hit his legs, though pacing the five strides of his cell was not exactly an adequate amount of exercise. It didn't help that it brutally drove home just how small his world really was.
Right now he couldn't focus on his legs though. The need to try and pull the sharp ache out of his arms had led to him twisting his wrists sharply in the cold confines. He could feel the tearing of his skin as warmth started to trickle into his palms.
He had to hide it. Hide it because it could be evidence. It could be taken as an admission of his guilt and remorse (which, as he wasn't and couldn't be Kira, he didn't actually have) and he was already as tired of the thirteen bars and three grey walls that loomed oppressively over him as one human being ever could be.
Light casually fell backwards to lie on the small cot that inhabited the room, wincing as the thick metal bit angrily into his back at being abused in such a way, and allowed the draining of his wrists to coat the dark sheets. He didn't think it would be noticed, either on the zooming eye of the watcher above or by the felt-covered hand that slid a tray (the same tray) with his food (the same food) sat on it through a shuttered gap at the bottom of the right wall. He hoped he would forget to notice it soon, as the black cotton was already a grimy thing, coated with his sweat from the long sleeps he had to have. The rancid smell of it and his body and his clothes and his hair wouldn't leave him alone for even a minute particle of a second, scratching it's way up his nose to gnaw away on his brain.
Light scrunched up his nose in an attempt to hold the sniggering smell at bay, but the fierce tang of it invaded him still.
"Yagami-kun, are you alright?"
Light didn't even startle anymore. He simply slowly released the squeezing folds of his scrunched-up nose and stared sightlessly upwards.
"Just bored, Ryuuga. There is not much to do here. You'd never win an award as a host you know!" He laughed loudly and alone, chasing away the pressing silence.
"Yagami-kun, may I remind you that you are being held here as part of the Kira investigation as the culprit. Your surroundings are adequate for the task."
"You don't know much about being human, do you, Ryuuga?" Light mused, feeling his fingers numb as the weight ate at his wrists. He needed to relieve the pressure before his fingers failed completely, but he could not seem to bring himself to sit up.
"Yagami-kun, your question is illogical. I am human and therefore I know how to be human."
"What a boring conclusion, Ryuuga. Do you believe, therefore, that each person is born with the innate ability of knowing how to be human? Or are there exceptions to the rule?"
"Yagami-kun, do you consider yourself to be an exception?"
Light laughed. "Why Ryuuga! Dodge the question why don't you! No, Ryuuga. You won't get the answer this time. An eye for an eye."
"Yagami-kun. Can I take that as meaning you believe someone who has murdered should be killed for their crime?"
With a groan Light hauled himself into a slouched sit and then to his feet. "I am not Kira, Ryuuga. At the most I have been framed, but I am not the murderer." Turning, he went over to lean his forehead on the wall to the right of the thirteen bars as he continued. "I may believe that some people who have committed atrocious acts should be punished for it, but tha…"
"Yagami-kun what has happened to your arm?"
Light startled slightly, then frowned as he realised he'd forgotten. Moving his fingers gently he could feel the caked blood cracking into a patchy second skin. He was surprised that he hadn't taken the fact that there would be residual blood left on his hands into account. "It's nothing Ryuuga. The cuffs are chafing, that's all."
Silence consumed his words hungrily, then nipped laughingly at the wounds that circled his wrists before spiralling away.
"Yagami-kun, it is possible to obtain medical attention if you nee-"
"If you are going to taunt me by letting someone in then you can damn well let me out at the same time!" Light snarled, whirling round to glare angrily at the glassy eye.
"Yagami-kun, I am sorry, but that is not an option."
"I know!" Light growled, before letting himself slide down the wall. He brought his knees up and rested his head on them. "I know Ryuuga! However many times I tell you the truth you do not believe me! And until you do you're never going to let me go," Light lifted his head to stare solemnly at the camera above. "Are you?" He asked.
"I am sorry Yagami-kun. I cannot allow it."
And Light stopped hoping.
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Day forty-eight and Light hadn't bothered to move in several hours. He lay on his side now, his neck angled strangely to keep his head resting on the floor. It wasn't a comfortable position, but Light wasn't particularly given to care. He was certain that if he stopped counting the bars for even one moment the number would change on him, then switch back the moment his eyes turned to them.
Light was determined not to allow that to happen. It would change his small world and that wasn't allowed. This was his world and it was to stay unchanging and since he was the only inhabitant it would follow his rules whether it wanted to or not.
"Yagami-kun, are you okay?"
Light remained unmoving, slowly counting the bars one by one by one by one. Nothing distracted him. He simply named the thirteen (always thirteen) bars that bordered his cell.
"Yagami-kun?"
Light swore as his missed a beat, forgetting to name "quatre". He glared up at the lidless eye gazing benignly down at him. "Yes, Ryuuga. I'm okay." He lay his head back down and returned to counting the bars (what if there weren't thirteen?).
"Yagami-kun. Forty-eight days have passed without a single criminal dying. How can you still claim to not be Kira at this time? All of the evidence says it is you."
"Damnit Ryuuga! Light abruptly shot to a seated position. "I'm not Kira! I don't care if all the evidence points to me! I am not Kira! I'm being framed! Let me out so I can help you find the real Kira!"
"Yagami-kun, you know that is impossible."
"Then leave me alone," Light whispered, allowing himself to slip to the floor again, this time turning away from the cackling bars and the all-observing iris that stared silently at his back as he curled into as tight a ball as possible. "Leave me alone until you finally figure it out."
Silence blanketed Light, as he sobbed silently into the concrete, his shoulders jumping with the force of holding his tears in. He was so tired, so exhausted, so fatigué. He didn't know what to do. All he wanted was to sleep. To sleep and forget the bars that changed number every time he turned his back. To sleep and forget the silence that ate away at him. To sleep and forget the constant raging ache in shoulders and wrists.
Just to forget. For five minutes. For one minute. Just to be able to forget.
But sleep had deserted him. The insomnia hooked its angry claws into his flesh and refused to ease for even a moment. He hadn't slept in two days. The screaming pain in his head was reaching unbearable and all he wanted to do was sleep.
"I'm sorry, Light."
He wanted to scream.
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Some artistic license taken! In case it wasn't obvious. Light may be a genius, but I imagine he experiences psychological trauma just like everyone else, and for a highly intelligent mind, such a monotonous place must have been absolute hell. It doesn't really delve into the psychological issues within the manga, so I decided to do a little exploration myself!
I'm still undecided over whether to leave it there. Originally the plan was to include his release and the father/son episode from the manga, but something about it just seemed tacky when I added it on. Ah well, maybe I'll write it and put it up as a sequel someday! Inspired by the brilliant story "Prima Facie" by Seria, go read!
Reviews are always appreciated!