Of course they all deserved to die. They were defying God, and anyone who defied the justice of God had to be punished.

A searing pain ripped through Light's shoulder, and he winced. The rough asphalt of the stairs dug into his aching wound, probably infecting it. Not that it mattered. The young man tried shifting to lessen the discomfort, but only succeeded in rubbing his shoulder against the cement again.

They all should have died. It wasn't fair, he thought. It was supposed to be me. I was supposed to be the victor. I was supposed to cleanse the world of injustice and sin. I was going to make a new world in which people wouldn't have to worry about locking their doors at night and avoiding dark alleys.

He could see the sun splaying its still-golden rays of light across the skyscrapers of Tokyo. The modern buildings gleamed with the promise of… what? A new beginning? Light chuckled darkly, wincing as his shoulder shook. What new beginning? The world will slowly rot again, just like it used to. It will go back to the way it was. A grim smile graced Light's lips. They will forget that Kira ever existed. All that will be left is…

The old world. The cold gleam in Light's narrowed eyes softened slightly. As his blood slowly seeped away, running down the stairs, Light felt the clenched muscles on his face loosen. His new world was dead, stillborn. It had never been and never would be. He would never be the God of a perfect world, as he had promised Ryuk.

And amidst the intense feelings of anger, he could feel something else… Something softer, but equally bitter. For the first time in years, Light could feel the twinge of regret.

What for? he thought. My perfect world will never exist, and it's because of Nate River. Just four letters, and he would have died. He laughed in earnest now, ignoring the small spasms of pain. Just four letters away from death.

But…

…he still felt the regret, the guilt rise in him, choking him with its unpleasant aftertaste. What for? He asked himself again, but he knew why. Here, on the precipice of death, teetering dangerously before tumbling into the unknown, Yagami Light was reborn.

He remembered when he'd first used the Death Note. He'd promised himself that, for the sake of the world, he would kill criminals. Even at the cost of his sanity, he'd promised to kill. And as his conscience had slowly slipped away, his eyes had grown colder and his face leaner. He'd lost weight, slowly but surely losing his grasp on reality in the process. The reality that he was actually killing people.

He'd forgotten what it felt like, being human. He'd been so far in, so deeply embedded in skewed ideals and false justice that he'd forgotten that he was a human, too. Flesh and blood, bone and skin, just like L and Nate River, Mihael Keehl and Matsuda. Just like Yagami Soichiro. Just like Sayu…

And he felt the tears then. Though he didn't allow them, couldn't allow them to fall. Because he was so far removed from reality still. As his sense of right and wrong snapped itself back into place, Yagami Light, for the first time in at least six years, felt the bitter sting of salt water in his eyes.

The tears obscured his vision, and as he blinked rapidly to try to get them out, he suddenly caught sight of white and blue. Lawliet?! He tried to widen his eyes, tried to crane his neck, but fell back onto the stairs in pain. He'd learned the detective's name a day after the man had died. Rem's Death Note had had the name written in it neatly: L Lawliet.

…And despite feeling triumphant, despite feeling so much like the God he craved to be, he'd felt… off. Odd. But he hadn't known why.

Now, with the apparition of L standing before him, staring at him with those widened, obsidian eyes, he knew, too clearly, what that feeling had been. Regret. So sweeping, deep and unalloyed, it purged his sullied heart of everything else.

He was sorry. Sorry that he'd ever found the Death Note, though it had seemed like the best thing to have ever happened to him at the time. Sorry that he'd killed so many, even though they were all criminals. Though his throat was parched, Light whispered, "I'm sorry, Lawliet." But there was no indication that the man had heard.

Of course, he hadn't expected anything. And Light, with the regret still deeply ensconced in his heart, let the tears in his eyes fall. Swiftly, they dribbled down his cheekbones and onto the cement, where they mixed with a dark puddle of blood.

Light closed his eyes then. He couldn't expect forgiveness in this world of sin and betrayal and imperfection. He would die lonely, just as he'd known in the back of his subconscious mind. He would die hurt and broken. But he didn't care.

Because his sanity was back. Though it hurt to think of it, hurt to regret it; though he would have preferred to die with anger raging in his heart, he was grateful. Grateful that he could die, not as Kira, savior of the righteous, but as Yagami Light. Brilliant, nationally-ranked college student. Impeccable son. The Golden Child.

With anguish in his heart, Light let a small, rueful smile grace his lips. He could still feel the fading rays of sunset on his face, heating up the city of Tokyo briefly, before sputtering out. This would be his last day on earth.

And yet, dying was the only thing he didn't regret. Light felt no remorse for his own death, which had scared him and angered him so much until now. Because he was resigned to his fate. Deciding to face it head on instead of cowering behind his eyelids, the young man opened his eyes again to gaze out at the coming twilight.

It was funny. All he had ever been able to think about was how rotten the world was. How everyone was degenerating into monsters; how society was falling apart at the seams. But as he gazed out at the brilliantly illuminated dusk, all he could think about was how pretty the world looked. Not just pretty. Beautiful. The world's beauty was so stunning it took his breath away.

Maybe this world isn't so bad after all, he thought. And smiled. Sure, it wasn't flawless. There were murderers, robbers, con men, corrupt politicians… But…

…There were good people, too. He remembered one time when he'd been walking home alone, studying as usual. He'd been too preoccupied to notice the homeless man. But the man next to him, the impeccably dressed business man, had taken off his jacket and draped it over the haggard mendicant's shoulders. Then, as if embarrassed, the businessman had walked swiftly away. He could remember a great number of those kinds of moments now. How had he forgotten them? Why had he only thought of the cruel times?

Light sighed and turned his head slightly. His body felt numb, and he knew he would be dying shortly. He knew he didn't deserve pity, but he couldn't help wishing that someone would save him, bring him home to Sayu and his mother.

Suddenly, a searing pain in his chest blinded him.

He gasped, choking on his bloody spit. He could still see the faint outline of L standing before him. Reaching out as his eyelids drooped shut, Light whispered, "L… I'm sorry… don't tell Sayu…"

He gasped as another spasm of pain racked his body. Gritting his teeth, he said, "L… please… don't tell Sayu…"

A ghostly hand brushed over his face, gently, and he could almost taste the sadness in them. Despite the constant tightening of his chest, Light smiled. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve L's forgiveness, but he had it anyway. And the world had taught Light Yagami to accept things as they were.

Well, he would do that. Civilization had gone on before Kira emerged. It would go on again, just as it had since ancient times.

The world didn't need Kira. The only things the world needed were sunsets like the one he had just witnessed… to remind people that they are human. Light would die like a dog, just as all criminals deserved to die. He supposed… that it would be Kira's last and final triumph.

To kill off the most dangerous mass murderer in human history...