Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, all rights and material belongs to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. Any and all quotes is taken with full acknowledgement of the manga and anime. All the rest is my own work.
In Memory, You Fall (Catch Me)
Chapter One
Rebirth
"…Do you believe in dreams?"
"What a foolish question."
"It doesn't matter how foolish it is. Do you believe in dreams?"
"No. It is merely an involuntary attempt for humans to cower from the realities of life, tricking themselves into believing there's a better future for them without even trying. They are for the weak."
"That's sad. I think everyone should be able to believe in dreams."
"Why should they? Eventually, they have to wake up."
There exists many different kinds of attraction.
Of which, romantic attraction is the most obvious and lauded in human history.
It is longed for, anticipated. Glorified and immortalised. For how can it not be? What is romantic attraction? What is love?
–It's the flutter of eyelashes, the lingering of breathless touches, the teasing smirks and smouldering gazes, the beckoning and wanton movements and shivering laughter—
–A soft graze and a shy blush, a racing heartbeat and clammy palms, a crimson blush and adoring smile–
Love is captivating.
Love is moving.
Love is longing.
It captivates the mind and unfurls a million different possibilities before the very feet of the Lovers, yearning for fire-hot touches and drowning into so-called love.
It is the sensual dance of world-worn adults, callous and jaded from shattered dreams, broken from life's cruel edge; it is the hesitant and reckless exploration of adolescents, hungry and wondering, venturing hurriedly and joyously over the peak into maturity; it is the shy and bold declarations of affection between younglings, unknowing and misunderstanding, a gentle and benign mockery of what lay long into the distant future.
Romance. Affection. Love.
(A mere fantasy, a tasteless illusion. Disgusting.
There is no such thing as love. Merely a process of chemical reactions, tricking the brain, enthralling the weak and blind.
Stage one is lust. It is commonly known as desire. The sex hormones testosterone and oestrogen flood the brain, stimulating a response of lust or desire towards a designated 'mate'. In drastically increasing the amount already present in the brain, testosterone and oestrogen urges males and females to perform foolish actions to demonstrate their fertility and capability as a 'mate'.
It is a chemical craving that motivates humans to mate and therefore, reproduce; fulfilling the innate biological impulses of mere primates.
Stage two is attraction. The fixation, the obsession of the sexual partner, overcoming the ingrained urges for organic consumption and hydration or regenerative repose. Monoamines are released in abundance upon attraction towards the mate. Dopamine increase in number in the ventral tegmental area of the mesolimbic system in order to stimulate the nucleus accumbens into generating a feeling of reward when in the presence of the mate. Norepinephrine, also known as adrenaline, triggers the bodily reactions of a quickening heartbeat, induced sweating or flushing due to increased blood flow, psychologically linking the mate to the above reactions. Serotonin, a vital neurotransmitter, mediates the feeling of happiness, of satisfaction
It is a releasing of neurons to act as drugs, lying and manipulating the body to become obsessed, to become weak.
…Finally, stage three is attachment. When the obsession fades due to the body's growing tolerance to the pumping stimulants, when dependence and connection grows due to the new increase of the endorphins and hormones oxytocin and vasopressin. Oxytocin is secreted from the posterior lobe of the pituitary gland when mates bond by physical or social contact, providing a feeling of connection. Vasopressin, or anti-diuretic hormone, is released after sexual intercourse to induce a feeling of commitment, of devotion.
Amusedly enough, if a male prairie vole were to consume a drug to repress the effect of vasopressin, the bond between paired mates would immediately degrade and wither as the supposed devotion fades away and new mates beings to court the partner.
It is a working of hormones to lie¸ to create a feeling of connection and commitment, to trap and cage a human to another's side to fade.
Love is a lie.
Love never lasts.
There is no such thing as love)
It was strange to see how people willingly, wilfully blind themselves to the truth: the world is a disgusting place. Putrid and overflowing with scum, it was a wonder, truly, how people could walk amongst the (tainted) streets, live in those (infected) houses, talk to the (lyinglyingalwaysLYING) people without faltering.
Strange…
Perhaps that is why people clung to the bright lights. Perhaps they too sensed the hatred, the darkness and sought to cleanse themselves by bathing in the radiance of their betters.
Did they know…?
Perhaps that is why they clung to him. Perhaps they drowned the subconscious thoughts in the deep recesses of their minds – 'he's just a child, just a boy, don't be silly' – and kept the company of the beautiful (strange) boy because of their justified excuses. They knew, of course, they could be doing better things, this is just taking a few moments of their time to admire a brilliant, precocious child; they can leave any time they want, of course they can.
Fools.
Perhaps that's why they wanted (pleaded) for his attention. Perhaps that's why they followed (worshipped) him.
Perhaps that's why they clung to Yagami Light.
Before
To outsiders, Yagami Light almost seemed to transcend the limits of child brilliance. A certified genius. A boy who could debate, discuss, argue and analyse concepts that no ordinary child could even dream of. They all thought the sky was his limit.
'What would he be in the future?' some would inwardly ask. A politician? A scientist? A linguist? A doctor? A lawyer?
'So many possibilities,' they would swoon at the endless ideas. 'Of course,' they thought, 'in the future.' Right now, he was but a child, intelligent and shining, but ultimately a child with his own flaws. The discovery of said flaws wasn't a disappointment to them.
Quite the contrary, it seemed to enchant the others even more.
'He was still human, not a monster, still human,' whispered the buried thoughts in the dark shadows of their minds.
He was amazing, beautiful, gifted and kind.
Outsiders…were blind.
They saw what Yagami Light wanted them to see, thought what Yagami Light wanted them to think, did what Yagami Light wanted them to do.
Of course, in their flimsy defence, it wasn't as though there should've been anything different about the prodigious Yagami son. How should they have known about the chained monster underneath the mask? How should they have known about the permanent weighted shackles that bound his body and soul, visible only to those weary eyes? How should they have known?
How, indeed.
When the awestruck people, the wonder-blind children, adoring teachers expressed their amazement to said monster, they didn't know it was Kira who smiled back.
Strange, certainly.
When Yagami Light (Kira, the Second L, God of the New World) was born once more, he had a debt of eighty thousand, five hundred and thirty-two souls to save.
…Well…
Kira never did consider anything impossible.
"What about happiness?"
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Dreams can make you happy. It can give you something to strive for, a goal. When you achieve it, you'll be happy."
"…Dreams are but simple desires, whims. A passing feeling that can easily drift out of your grasp as soon as your next interest, your next obsession floats by. As I said before, they are for the weak."
"But…don't you want to be happy?"
"Ignorance is bliss and happiness is an ideal in a rotten world."
Age: Two months
The hush of the early dawn settled like quiet mist over the slumbering haze of the Shibuya neighbourhood, Kantō region. Within the peace (silencesilencesilence) an ethereal baby was curled up in his crib, serene amber eyes studying the dancing dust motes as they shone luminously in the new light of morning.
Kira has effortlessly slipped out of Morpheus' embrace as visions of bloodhurtpainIamGodhyukhyukLightsaveme threatened to overwhelm and drown him in hurthurthurt.
The monsters dare not linger in the new dawn.
With a tiny sigh, the amber eyes shifted to the small fists curled up next to their owner.
So fragile and weak, a far cry from the elegant pianist's hands that lay in store for him, far into the coming years.
It was…strange how helpless he was.
The first time around, it was easier, he had been more distracted and inexperienced, truly innocent in every sense of the word. (Hehadn'tbeendrowninginredthen) But now that Kira had a taste of the true potential he had as an adult, being trapped in a helpless prison of flesh and blood was twice as provoking.
Kira let out another sigh.
However, if it was one trait Kira had, it was patience.
"But happiness is real! I see it every day. My friends, my family, me. I'm happy. I can feel happiness, unlike—"
"…unlike me?"
"I…I didn't mean it like that…"
"That is the issue with you. You're too impulsive, too brash. You don't think before speaking and those consequences can spiral out of control if you're not careful enough."
"…I…"
"When will you realise that the world, the real world is a filthy place?"
"…"
Age: One year
He refused to admit he missed his Shinigami.
For one, it was the very principle of the matter; it was, after all, Ryuk who had – rather gleefully – scribbled his name into his Death Note – Ryuk's idea of 'help me' left much to be desired. For another, Kira must have been contracted to the most annoying Shinigami to walk the Death Realm.
All the constant pleas for apples, the annoying attitude as he provoked Kira again and again, that hideous chuckle as he continuously hovered behind him as he merrily observed how Kira's schemes unfolded themselves in all their cunning brilliance.
So sickening…a Death God's indifferent visage…
But the fact remains, Ryuk was his Shinigami.
No, it wasn't something out of some misplaced sense of affection, (KirawasGodKirawasGodKirawasGod) weakness such as caring had no place in a God's (murderer's) life.
No.
Kira had pawns and tools, freely using and discarding them as he pleased. He wasn't the King but the Game Master: the phantom puppeteer shifting the pieces in his unspoken dance, intangible fingers moving his toys to and fro.
All the pieces was his and a Shinigami was no exception.
(Hyuk hyuk)
"Back again?"
"I…yes. I wanted to apologise."
"For?"
"I didn't mean to say you couldn't feel happiness, like there was something wrong with you. It was stupid of me and I'm really sorry about that."
"Would there be something wrong with me if that was true?"
"What?"
"If I were to tell you I am incapable of feeling happiness, would that mean there was something wrong with me?"
"But that's impossible! Everyone feels happiness! That's a trick question."
"…I see."
Age: Two years and seven months
Yagami Light has his parents.
(FALSE: Kira had no parents)
Yagami Light cared about his parents.
(FALSE: Kira cared nothing for his caretakers)
Yagami Light loved his parents.
(FALSE: Kira knew there was no such thing as love)
"Please don't do that. I…don't…"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Look at me like that! Don't look at me like that. Like I-I…failed a test or something!"
"You're getting hysterical."
"Shut up! Just don't look at me like that! I didn't do anything wrong! Just stop!"
"You're shaking."
"Shut up, shut up, shut up! Wh-what's wrong with you?!"
"…I?"
Age: Two years and ten months
Dusky whorls of inked darkness twirled and danced on the blank abyss of white. Words – written, permanent marks – smoothly faded into existence under the blazing glow of amber fire.
The leather-bound journal (notthesamenotthesamenotthesame) burned softly in his tiny hands, canvas gradually, hungrily being eaten up by (blackblackblackblack) words; plans upon plans upon plans, a false web of lies and truth.
Like a spider's threading, the fate of the world spun itself into cold granite, bound by words (wordsalwayswordsintheend), the plaything of a God. It snapped into place – clink, clink, like manacles once upon a time – as a pen wrote Judgement.
Kira, above all else, knew the power of words.
"You're supposed to be my friend! You're so kind and nice and cool. And now you're acting so strangely and I don't like it! Stop!"
"You're growing tiresome."
"See! What does that even mean? Why are you acting like this? Light—"
"—be quiet."
"…"
"This was somewhat entertaining in the beginning but now you're becoming so very tedious."
"…"
"Shh, don't cry. It's pathetic. You're already wretched enough."
Age: Three years and four months
Yagami Sayu was a disquieting being.
It was so very strange observing the wailing, wrinkled creature and knowing the boisterous girl that was her future self. The contrast could not be any greater.
The air stank (ofsicknessofgriefofdeath) of a rotten odour that seemed common in all hospitals and the ward room was quiet in a tenacious torpor – interrupted only by the screams.
Kira lounged in his hospital armchair – as far from the ward as he could conceivably be – automatically shifting his expression into one of alarm when Soichiro drew nearer to him in his constant circular pacing.
He was bored. (Whenhewasboreddeathalwaysfollowed)
Kira didn't want to be here.
There was no point in coming here and then being forced to wait for eight hours, sixteen minutes and forty-one seconds outside an ear-splitting room. Whilst Kira couldn't deny his enjoyment of screaming, he always preferred it from criminals as they suffered the wrath of his Justice.
(Soannoying)
Whilst Soichiro hovered uselessly, pacing jerkily between the ward door and his seat, Kira was in his own chair – the very picture of shaking innocence – whilst inwardly reciting his personal notes for 'Physics; Principles with Applications' by Douglas C. Giancoli.
Born at 9:56pm on 1992, June 18th Thursday, Yagami Sayu welcomed the brave new world.
…Kira couldn't have cared any less.
(MurderermybrotherisnotamurdererKiraKiraKIRA)
"…Why…"
"Hm? Do speak up."
"…Why are you acting like this? You're not…you can't be Light..."
"The Light you knew never existed."
"But…"
"You see, I was experiencing some frustration as you might label it. A certain infuriating detective is stirring up some trouble, interrupting a few of my plans. I wasn't entirely pleased with this turn of events. So, I decided to have some fun, as one might say. Blow off some steam, yes?"
"…"
"You caught my eye. I planned and analysed and strategized. And it worked…at first. But you quickly outgrew your usefulness. Your naivety, your ignorance, your simple-mindedness; it was nauseating."
Age: Four years and six months
Soichiro and Sachiko had quietly asked Kira to mind Sayu for an hour whilst the woman bustled off to the grocer and the man answered the summons to the National Police Agency headquarters.
Ever the agreeable 'son', Kira had, of course, consented.
('HelpmewithmyhomeworkLight?')
Kira had – up to that point – successfully managed to avoid excessive contact with his 'sister', easily expressing his inward aversion as nervous trepidation to his caretakers. Thinking this a child's understandable reaction to the idea of keeping the company of a much more fragile and younger sibling, Soichiro and Sachiko empasised – exactly what Kira wanted.
Now though…
He peered down at the mahogany-and-cotton cradle, leaning casually against the side, head languidly cradled in a palm and viper-still as glacial eyes analysed the being below him.
(BrotherIloveyouloveyouloveyou)
Yagami Sayu slept, vulnerable as closed eyelids twitched in shifting dreams. (DreamsnotnightmaresnotlikeKira) Kira tilted his head, caramel strands shadowing his eyes from view.
It'll be…
Petite hands reached down.
…so…
One curled up in dark brown locks.
...easy…
The other brushed a soft (defenceless) cheek.
…to…
Down, down, the hand traced before…
…just…
…it circled the child's throat, gently resting upon the rising and falling skin.
…squeeze.
Indifferent amber studied his own actions at that moment, considering his fingers circling the girl's throat. (So easy)
Time stretched out, teetering on a knife's thin edge.
Warmth burnt his skin, radiating like fire from the throat he was holding.
(Squeeze…)
Kira released his hold and stepped back.
(Howdisappointing)
When the oblivious Sachiko returned to her home, she asked if Kira looked after his sister. He glanced at the sleeping Sayu and nodded shyly.
(ShutupLightisnotamurderernotKira!)
"The game was fun while it lasted but now the crown has been relinquished and a pawn lies at my feet…what to do now…?"
"…Let…"
"Oh, I didn't quite catch that."
"Let…let me go."
"'Let you go,' you say? That's an interesting request. What will you do if I were to grant your wish?"
"I'll lea-leave. I'll leave you alone, I swear! I p-promise! Just let me go!"
"A little demanding, almost too much so…especially considering your position right now."
"P-please…"
"Much better. A little manners goes a long way, you see. It's amusing, really, even now I'm still teaching you, guiding you. Being a good friend. Just like old times."
"…M-monster."
Age: Five years
It was easy enough to slip out of the teeming crowd. Kira, with the ease of a youthful child (runningrunningdodgingbulletstwistingthroughthehitsandstrikes), ghosted up the stairs into the serenity and peace of his bedroom.
He didn't see the attraction of a birthday party.
His caretakers had invited many of their friends – Soichiro, his many co-workers from his work as the Police Investigation Bureau Chief and Sachiko, her friends from the Knitting & Tea Appreciation group she frequented – resulting in a mass of chatter and shouts on the first floor.
Kira was not amused.
Their condescension, their sickening cooing and tittering, the endless boasts and the little-too-loud comparisons with their own darling children…
(WritetheirnameshurtthemtorturethemmakethemBLEED)
Dark pressure coiled underneath his skin, pulsing and twisting, causing Kira to twitch uncontrollably as he prowled around his room.
(Doitdoitdoithurthemfilthyhumansdoit)
He rolled his neck.
(Sachikoisignorantdoit)
He flexed his fingers.
(Soichiroisblinddoit)
He hissed softly.
(Sayuispowerlessdoit)
'Round and 'round, Kira stalked, a monster (GodGodGod) caged in a prison of his own volition, wanting, aching. The shadowy whispers in his head stirred his darkness, urging and pushing to just do it, what areyouwaitingfor—
He slammed his hands on his desk, harsh, guttered breaths escaping his clenched jaws. Fiercely glowing blood-red eyes narrowed, unseeing, lost in bloodhurtbloodKILL—
Breathe in…
(Killthem)
…breathe out.
(Killthem)
Breathe in…
(Kill)
…breathe out.
(Kil…)
Breathe in…
(Ki…)
…breathe out.
(K…)
Breathe in…
…
…breathe out.
When previously shut eyelids slid open, it was the colour of topaz that greeted the room. Kira sighed. Slowly straightening up, the male stepped back from his desk, tensed shoulders uncoiling.
Kira was not controlled.
Tiny feet – clad in tiny, woollen socks – padded over to the window.
Kira was not controlled.
With an elegant flick of the hand, a sleeve was pushed back, revealing a pale wrist, unmarred by scars or imperfections.
Kira was not controlled.
There was a pause in which a razor-sharp mind, honed in decades of blood and Judgement, focused.
Kira was not controlled.
The world shifted, reality jerking and buckling under a weight, laced with death.
Kira was not controlled.
It was with a clink that manacles manifested, dull and wrong in the sun's bathing light. Wrapped a dozen-fold around his arm, the black metal rustled and settled around his arm, glinting with an ominous, wrongwrongwrong, radiance. He knew that it wasn't just his arm, knew it extended far beyond, knew it was wrapped around his short body, binding and chaining.
Kira was not controlled.
Though it remained unseen from other eyes, he knew it existed. He could see it, touch it, feel it. He could feel its coldness upon his skin. (Whywasitsocold?)
Kira was not controlled.
('And with a snap, the manacles locked into place."…We have an accord, O Godling."')
"Monster!"
"Anything else? Creative insults, accusations of being a traitor, deceiving you?"
"SHUT UP! YOU'RE A MONSTER! LET ME GO!"
"…Pity. I was hoping for something interesting."
"MONSTERMONSTERMON—"
Thud.
"…Even up to your last second, you exceeded the known limits for a human's ability to irritate. Well done."
…
"Do you know what I learnt from all of this?"
…
"Playing with L is much more fun."
Footsteps faded into the distance, leaving behind only a fallen corpse and blood.
End of Summer Term School Report
1995, July 19th, Gyosei Elementary School
Teacher: Tanaka Reo | Student: Yagami Light
First Grade, Summer Term 1995
Date of Birth: 1989, February 18th Enrolment Date: 1995, April 1st
Legal Guardians: Yagami Soichiro & Yagami Sachiko
Pass Grades:
Exemplary (S) | 90-100%
Very good (A) | 80-89%
Good (B) | 70-79%
Average (C) | 60-69%
Approved/Acceptable (D/F) | 50-59%
Fail Grades:
Unacceptable (F) | 0-49%
YAGAMI LIGHT HAS ACHIEVED:
Japanese Language: S
Social Studies: S
Arithmetic: S
Science: S
Art: S
Physical Education: S
Teacher Comments: I would like to congratulate Yagami-kun's parents on raising such a polite and intelligent child. It is truly a pleasure to have such a wonderful student; Light is attentive and sweet, highly intelligent but more than willing to put in hard work to achieve his given tasks.
There have been a few remarks to him by other children – kids will be kids – but he refused to retaliate, conducting himself with admirable dignity in the face of such adversity. Do not worry, Yagami-san and Yagami-san, I have rebuked them suitably.
The only thing I am worried about is his occasional distance. Sometimes, when the noise becomes a little too loud or the children's pestering becomes a little too annoying, he retreats from the activities and hides away with a book, declining to even talk with the others. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Light seems very mature for his age and likely enjoys things that are of a higher level than the others are used to. It's nothing concerning.
I look forward to next term.
1995, April 20th, Thursday
Age: Six years and two months
The passing of spring is heralded by a gradual warming of the ever-present sun and the sweetening scent of the palmate maples, saturating the flowing breeze and tickling the noses of the chattering students as they left the gates of Gyosei Elementary School.
It was little wonder that their rambunctious antics was met with only amused indulgence from their parents; today was the last day of the summer term. Awaited was the freedom of thirty-six days of blissful oblivion.
Slightly distant from the moving stream of departing children, a tiny boy waited patiently by the iron-cast school gates, seemingly enthralled with the thick book in his hands. If one was pressed, they might've commented on his innocent appearance, perhaps cooing over the angelic planes of his face or admiring the silky soft quality of his hair. They might've taken it further and appreciated the size of the book he was captivated by, likely approving of his intelligence.
(Of course, they would never consider the idea of it being a textbook concerning the understanding of molecular chemistry by reputably qualified academic researchers; no, most likely they would've thought it a picture book of some kind: no child was that smart, obviously.)
Furthermore, if the distance from his fellow classmates had been noted, they would've dismissed it; the poor child was most likely intimidated by the sheer size and loud cacophony of noise of the throng.
If so, they would be dead wrong.
Kira simply wanted to be as far away from the crowding swarm of humans as he could possibly be without actually vacating the immediate area. (Killthem)
With a sigh, he returned to his book, slouching even more against the brick wall. In another time and place, Kira would've been appalled by this show of laziness and poor posture…but considering the fact he had just about expended his entire store of patience and tranquillity on notslaughtering the annoying humans throughout the entire day, he felt his tired stance well-justified.
(Killthem)
It took quite literally all of his iron willpower and resolve to not fall asleep during class and stay awake throughout the entire term. Why?
Kira was in elementary school. Need he comment further?
He only shuddered to think what He would've said about the entire situation. Kira was certain His hypothetical comments would only be suitably mocking and passively derisive in nature and would've only served to fuel Kira's desire for bloodshed.
('Trytokillmetrytokillmetrytokillmelet'smeetagainsoonkirakiraKIRAKIRAKIRAKIRAKIRA—')
"Light!"
Kira glanced up, already knowing who was calling him.
Yagami Soichiro drew nearer, a tired smile forming on his lined face. "Hello, Light. I'm sorry I'm late, I got held up at the station."
Indeed he was late. Twenty-eight minutes and thirty-two seconds late. Exactly as Kira had predicted. How tiresome. He detested tardiness.
"It's okay, Dad," Kira giggled, jogging up to Soichiro and casually slipping his textbook into his schoolbag along the way. "I understand. You're an important police officer!" As he finally reached his caretaker, he smiled innocently up at the man – cursing his shortness all the while – watching with inward indifference as Soichiro's smile widened. (Fool)
The man chuckled as he bent down. "Yes, that's right, Light. Your father is an important police member but that doesn't make it right. I'll do better next time, I promise." He rested a worn hand on the other's head, ruffling the neat strands.
Kira resisted a twitch. He hated people touching him.
He held up a hand. "Pinky promise?"
"Pinky promise."
Letting out another giggle as they unlinked their fingers, Kira accepted his caretaker's outstretched hand as Soichiro begun to lead them back to their house.
(Hehatedtouchingletgoletgoletgo)
Years of practice helped Kira force back his instinctive disgust at the contact but it didn't halt the raging torrent beneath his skin, causing an urge to snarl as he shoved the man away.
(Letgo)
Thankfully for his already diminished patience, Soichiro refrained from talking along their walk. It was most likely the man's highest virtue – he wasn't the most loquacious talker around. Which, of course, suited Kira perfectly.
As the pair walked to his caretaker's police cruiser, Kira's classmates called out to him; wishing him a happy holiday, offering to hang with him sometimes, shouting goodbyes, or, with the more earnest students, shrieking out compliments. Kira resisted the urge to sigh. Befriending the children was far from the most challenging task in the world but it was certainly among the most tedious. They were at the age where they were smart enough to be at least vaguely aware of the world around them but foolish and inexperienced enough to actually blurt out the observations that careen through their heads – whether intelligent or dumb. And they mostly leant towards the latter.
Needless to say, interacting with them was draining.
A chuckle drew Kira's attention to his caretaker. Soichiro smiled down at him. "Seems you have a few friends, huh, Light?"
'I'm glad you find this amusing.'
Kira nodded shyly, tightening his grip on Soichiro's hand. "I guess…" he mumbled, casting his eyes away. "They seem to like me. I'm not sure why though…."
"Don't be silly," Soichiro exclaimed. "Of course they like you! You're a good boy, Light and, evidently, a good friend. There's no reason not to like you. I'm glad you're making friends."
Forcing a blush to his cheeks, Kira whispered, "Thank you, Dad."
(You'reafoolYagamiSoichiro)
A minute later, they finally reached Soichiro's cruiser, escaping the insistent calling that was plaguing Kira. Soichiro unlocked the car and opened the front passenger, helping Kira get in and put on the seatbelt, accepting Kira's timid thanks. A few minutes later, they were driving along the road, Soichiro easily weaving his way through the passing cars – though how much of that was skill and not the fact that they were in a visible police car eluded Kira.
The minutes passed in silence, Soichiro humming softly and Kira relaxing now that he was no longer fighting crushing boredom listening to school material designed for a six year old.
Movement flickered at the corner of his eye and Kira turned from his gazing out the window to see his caretaker turn on the radio. "Got to keep up with the news," he said when he saw Kira watching. Kira nodded.
"—Nakano Toshi has been arrested and charged with five counts of murder with his recent attempted mugging of a local convenience store in the Kagawa-ken Prefecture. His victims includes twenty-three year old Miura Misaki, seventeen year old Kubo Ryota, thirty-five year old Nomura Take—"
"Ah," Soichiro muttered. "Maybe not this station…" He flicked the knob.
"—on the eighteenth, at two-thirty a.m., twenty-seven year old Koijima Aki has been allegedly assaulted whilst walking from a nearby party, by arrested Yu—"
"Uh, not this one either…" Another flick.
"—it is a controversial decision that is being debated on; whether the parole appeal for well-known arsonist Ueno Eriko will go through or not. Ueno is well known for her heinous crimes of setting alight twelve buildings in the Tottori-ken Prefecture and killing a total number of eleven people in the year of nineteen eighty-one. The victims include—"
"…Another one?"
In other circumstances, Kira would've been darkly amused by his caretaker's misfortune. As it was, he merely said, "Dad? It's okay if you want to listen."
Soichiro glanced over at Kira, shaking his head in the meanwhile. "That's very nice of you, son. But children shouldn't be listening to things like this, they're for the adults to worry about."
Kira ducked his head, looking like a shy child hiding from his father's attention but in actuality, he was doing it to conceal his snort. "But you're the police Chief, right? You're supposed to listen to stuff like that. I don't want to stop you from doing your job."
Kira had the feeling that had he not been driving, Soichiro would've ruffled his hair again. Thankfully, they were in a moving car.
"You're so understanding, Light," the man exhaled. "But while, yes, that is part of my job – being aware of current events around Japan – I don't want that part of it to consume me. There's a difference between my work and my personal life and my work is a very difficult job sometimes. It's demanding and it really takes a lot out of me. I'm essentially fighting against evil and that can consume me completely at times, forcing me to blot out things as basic as driving home from work. I don't want to do that, so I keep my separation at unimportant times. It helps keep my head straight. I don't want to drown in my job.
Do you understand, Light?"
('—IsuspectthatyouareinfactKira—')
('—IamJustice—')
('—Thisworldisrottenandthosewhoaremakingitrotdeservetodie—')
('—WhenyoudieI'llbetheonewritingyournameinmyDeathNote—')
('—IfKiragetscaughtheisevil—')
('—Aneyeforaneyemyfriend—')
('—IfKirarulestheworldheisjustice—')
"…Yes," the God murmured. "I understand."
('Light, my son…from one murderer to another, I'll see you in Hell.')
Ah, the feeling of publishing the first chapter of my first Fanfiction. Not too shabby, eh?