AUTHOR NOTES 3//
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN DEATH NOTE -tear-
Plot: It's a tragic tale of episode 35. What happens before the kidnapping. Hard to explain really
Note: yeah, I don't say names in this story. Like you should know who is who by the description. It was a challenge to myself. This is written in like the process of 30 minutes. There is slight MelloxMatt. Hell, I love writing with those two okay?
AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO L
SPOILER ALERT// CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR EPISODES 25+
The sun rises over the dirty city just barely peeking through the morning clouds. The breeze blows gently, and it looks as though it might rain. A rain from the Heavens above or something of that nature. And the only figure, perched up the roof of the old apartment complex, clenches his rosary beads between his fingers. A silent prayer, a silent hope.
Yet it feels like it is only in vain because the boy with the golden hair clad in leather stayed up all night praying to any god he could think of. To people that weren't even considered gods. He distinctly remembers muttering a prayer to Buddha, despite how stupid it seemed.
His blue eyes stare at the sun that is peaking between the spaces in the buildings causing the sky to look a pinkish color. It feels almost like a sunset instead of a sunrise. The blond takes it as a sign. A final chance to watch the sun, to see the light. A chance he isn't allowed to take.
A deep sorrow falls over him, but he's not alone in this sorrow. An auburn-haired figure lays atop a sleeping back on the roof also. His partner in crime.
Only they're not partners in crime. That was simply a title they had been given during the simpler days back at the orphanage in which they grew up. No, they aren't partners in crime. They are justice, raised by the orphanage to be so. They are avenging a fallen comrade, a fallen idol. Their terms of justice are just different. A type of justice borderline bad. A cold form of justice not like that of the fallen one. But it is justice nonetheless. Capture the merciless killer with no name nor face. That was their mission. Except this mission was a suicide mission.
"Today's the day," the auburn haired one says.
To which the blond simply nods and looks over at the boy sitting on the sleeping bag. He doesn't look long however. After a moment, he redirects his attention back to the rising sun.
He knows what he's putting his partner, his lover, up for. Possibly sacrificing the only person in his life that he's ever cared about. He's accepted the fact he himself will die. However, his friend might not die. Maybe he could find somebody else. But who else would follow him to an almost certain grave? Probably nobody.
"You don't have to do this," he says to the boy.
"I am nothing more than an antique Roman," the boy replies, with a cigarette between two of his fingers.
It's almost as if the auburn haired one knows as well as the blond they will most likely die today in an attempt to help the fallen one's successor. Putting rivalries aside, the blond one has sworn to die with a purpose. And that purpose was to help in the idol's quest, the quest that led to his own demise, catching the most talked about killer across the world. And if his partner wanted to go down with him, then so be it.
And the blond feels like one of the antique Romans that his comrade was talking mentioning. The commander, the leader, had died. And now the soldiers would soon follow suit.
But it seems like a stupid concept. The boy in leather knows he isn't dying because of his fallen idol. He's dying in the name of justice. Or maybe in some twisted sense, he is dying for the fallen idol.
And the auburn haired one is dying out of loyalty. Because if the blond one dies tonight, then so does he. He is a true Roman.
"We go down together, in a blaze of dying glory," the auburn haired, green eyed boy says as if he were a character in a videogame. Although he did know video games almost like the back of his hand.
"Stop being so deep," the blond says, tossing the other's cigarette from the rooftop and watching as it falls to the ground.
He lays his head on the smoker's shoulder and sighs. The sun doesn't seem to rise as fast as usual. It's almost as if it is sympathizing with the two and trying to stop the inevitable. Only time stops for no one person. Not even those risking it all in the name of justice.
After a few minutes of silent embrace, the two rise and climb back into their apartment window, leaving the sleeping bag and lantern on top of the roof. They won't be needing it anymore.
Another cigarette is lit. A few final video games are played. A few more chocolate bars are devoured. Some more kisses are shared. Some final cuddles. A final moment of true passion.
And now they are outside of the apartment. They discuss the plan once more. The auburn haired boy puts on his goggles and climbs into his old red sports car.
"I love you, commander," he says, pulling the blond to the window and kissing him.
They kiss in this awkward position for what feels like forever, but in reality it's only a moment.
The boy drives off.
And as his car fades into the distance, the blond whispers, "I love you too, solider."
The pair will never return back to the empty apartment. It will end up being sold to a couple just married, who will never know of the tragedies of the former tenants. The faceless killer will captured shortly after their deaths by the white-haired successor. Although the successor will die four years later of natural causes.
And the world will return back to its original state until another death note is put into the hands of a smart kid with nothing better to do than play God. And there will be more orphans trained to be justice. Trained to put it all on the line to capture the bad guy.
As long as there's a death god with nothing better to do and a kid to pick up the note, the cycle will continue.
MORE NOTES//Wow, I listened to What I've Done, Savin' Me, and Snakes on a Plane while writing this. Now which song on there doesn't fit in XD. "Kiss me goodbye, honey, I'm going to make it out alive." Yeah, no, sorry babes. XD
So R&R
OH YEAH. Antique Romans, a concept I learned from MacBeth. In ancient Rome, when a commander died, all his soldiers commited suicide. To return home after your commander died was dishonor and shame. I figured that kind of suited Matt.