Light walked down the hall, his arms filled with an assortment of heavy textbooks with covers of varying colors. He grumbled to himself. Who gave them the right to assign this much homework right before the long weekend? He felt like just tossing the stack of yellowing paper into the trash where it belonged. It wasn't like he was ever going to use any of the information he was being forced to cram into his skull anyway. Why even bother?

He threw an angry glance at the group of would-be-dropouts that cluttered around his locker like a swarm of garbage-dwelling bees. They were dishevelled, and looked as if they hadn't bathed in weeks. They smelt that way, too. That, and of the marijuana fumes that must have become permanently fused with their clothes by now.

The first looked up at him, and then so did the others. One by one, like a slow-processing hive-mind, they matched his acrid expression.

"Can we help you?" the first thing said in a nasal drawl that sounded like the voice one would make while mocking someone they hated.

"Move," Light sneered.

With a series of glares, the herd of morons passed on to infest some other corner of the school.

He stood in front of his locker, and groaned, feeling stupid as he looked from the lock to the pile of books. How was he going to–?

Something smacked into him at full force. Light was thrown into the lockers and his books flew from his arms. His head bashed into the thin metal, a loud hollow sound resounding from the impact.

Fiercely rubbing his aching head, Light stared down at the student who had dared to crash into him, foul remarks preparing to come out. The student looked up at him and Light froze. He found himself staring at the dankest human being he had ever laid eyes upon.

Those mysterious, dark eyes encircled by what appeared to be two perfect rings of coffee grounds smeared into the flesh as haphazard make-up. And that absolutely-to-die-for mop of a haircut. It was readily apparent that it had been neatly washed in dirty dish water from that cloying soapy smell that lingered in his face-bound nasal pits he sensed the stifled air with. Words nearly failed him.

He was beauty in the flesh.

"So sorry," the boy hastily sputtered, reaching down to pick up Light's scattered books from the floor with his lanky, spider-monkey-like arms. "I-I should really watch where I'm going..."

A name. He needed a name.

The fellow humanoid that existed in a near region of space-time held out the books, and Light wordlessly accepted them with his hands. He breathlessly exchanged a nervous glance with the flighty stranger, who seemed eager to cease existence within his vicinity.

"Sorry," he repeated, turning as if to run away.

Something screamed in his mind, and Light deftly seized his wrist. "Wait!" he screeched like a flaming vulture. The boy stared up at him, eyes wide in fear.

"Your name," Light said, evening his tone like smooth jelly on toast. "I never got your name."

"O-oh..." the boy squeaked, his expression calming. "Please, call me Ryuzaki."

"Hello, Ryuzaki," Light echoed, liking the feel of the name on his lips, like sweet, sweet bee syrup on his sticky fingers. "You can call me Light."

"Hey, Light," Ryuzaki said. "Why don't we...take this conversation elsewhere?"

Light's eyes widened. Was he serious? Was this tiny, dank man serious? But Ryuzaki placed his hand on Light's shoulder and tugged, his lips suddenly pulled into a freakishly-wide grin.

"Light." His tone was almost musical. "I know a place, Light." He continued pulling on his sleeve.

"Okay, okay!" Light said. "Let's go then."

Ryuzaki dragged him to a nearby door, which Light recognized as the janitor's closet.

"In here!" Ryuzaki proclaimed as he threw open the door. A heap of cleaning supplies falling out greeted them. He frowned.

"This isn't exactly like in the..." he began muttering to himself as he shoved the clutter back in and shoved the door closed. He cleared his throat and placed his hand firmly on the handle again.

"Like I was saying," he began, "IN HERE!" He threw the door open again, and the room was mysteriously empty. Light gazed in amazement. Everything had vanished from continuity, just like his books had. He looked over at Ryuzaki and was given an expecting look.

"Go on," Ryuzaki urged.

Light went in, and Ryuzaki followed, slamming the door. He pulled out a lighter, casting a dim light over the room. "You know Light, you look stunning from this angle."

Light gave him a funny look. If Ryuzaki noticed, he didn't show it, instead leaning in far closer than was socially acceptable. But strangely, Light didn't care.

The situation was so hackneyed, so contrived. So cliche. Yet, Light found himself giving in to his urges.

Ryuzaki's tongue slithered out of his mouth like a snake, softly caressing his face like a sensual slug. His hand seized Light's, and he moved it to his pants. Light could feel the tent contained within Ryuzaki's pants, and it grew...

No, wait, that wasn't–

His eyes snapped open.

It was his hands.

Light wrenched his hand back, staring at them in horror.

And his hands grew. They grew and grew, until they were almost comically oversized, like he could fit an entire basketball in his palm. They were calloused and rough as if he suddenly had a lifetime of being an unlikable asshole with a vague backstory behind him. His eyes widened. He knew what this was.

His hands – they were yaoi hands.

Light felt something in him sink, like a fat man lost at sea.

"I knew it!" Ryuzaki suddenly yelled, his eyes intensely focused on Light's hands as if they held all the world's secrets.

His eyes narrowed, and when he spoke again, his voice was different. No longer was it upbeat and high like an annoying tiny dog, but low and gravelly, like sandpaper on his fabulous eardrums. "You are Kira."

No. No. It couldn't be right? This was...?

"That's right, Light," Ryuzaki hissed, "I am L."

"No... That's not possible!" Light screeched like a tiny owl.

"I'm placing you under arrest," L announced, pulling some handcuffs right out of his ass.

Ryuk appeared from the wall, grinning madly. "Well Light, looks like this is the end. Not waiting around for yo ass to die." He took out his Death Note. "I've got shinigami shit to do."

Light stared in horror at his massive yaoi hands as Ryuk scribbled his name in the book.

"At least..." Light coughed dramatically, "I'll die dank."

Then he died.

L smiled sadly.

The world was safe for another day.

But at what cost?

"If only there had been another way, my friend..."