The End is Near
This is only because it is not like him to be unconfident. No-one has ever seen that from him; Misa hasn't, Ryuk hasn't – L certainly never did.
No-one has ever seen a crack in the mask – and why would they? If you can stand out in an open street and get a former FBI agent's real name before sending her on her way to the tolling of the bell, or if you can manipulate a Shinigami into giving up her own life just so you can see the detective who almost caught you fall to the ground, knowing that he was right to suspect you but wrong to think he could outsmart you…
…Yes, if you can do that, if you've come this far; if you've risen above him, taken his crown for your own; acquired legions who, already drunk on your power and resolve, will drink to you still, praise your name, speak your word—
If you can do all that with nothing but a notebook in your hand, why shouldn't you be confident in what you can do?
The world has changed out there; perhaps "Kira" has become something of a fanatical religion. No doubt that was what L wanted to stamp out – before he stamped L out, of course.
Though it is not L who makes Light Yagami sit in the dark, on the covers of his hotel bed, with Misa sighing in her slumber but a few feet away – those eyes that were once precious jewels to him closed in sleep. Not L himself who makes his eyes trace again and again over the ragged form of the words "Death Note" on the black cover of the notebook.
Maybe L started this battle; but L is dead now, with nothing but a legacy, and those who war for his mantle. His heirs, spawned from his grave soil, to come and demand in his place an end to what he believed was lunacy – and they follow in his belief, follow him and the threads he left trailing behind, even if those threads lead down into the Realm of Death.
There, at least, Mello's thread ended.
But then there's Near – and Light doesn't know exactly which thread Near is following. It seems as though dear N is playing Cat's Cradle, wrapping them all around his fingers, dipping them in and out and twisting them over on top of one another, and his web is tighter still than L's ever was.
Light will rise to him – stand across the board, all the pieces in place, their gazes locked over the rows of pawns in the deadly game begun by L, and bound to be ended by the one most deserving of his title.
And that Checkmate is soon to come – it's imminent, clear as the names Misa used to see floating like dreams. Three days was Near's wish, and tomorrow shall be that third day.
And though he does not truly believe that Near will win, because he has played his own pieces so very carefully (Misa, Mikami, Takada), there is, for this one mere 2:54am moment, a dark shadow of doubt cast in his heart, because one way or another…
The end is Near.