A/N: I just wanted to apologise for taking so long to post this chapter. School work has been really picking up (since it's near the end of the year now) and I have been unable to finish my editing. Thank you for understanding, I hope to post chapter three in the not too distant future. Without any futher ado...
CHAPTER TWO
Lying on a well worn, military issue cot, YagamiLight slowly closed his eyes. Like many times before, he tried imagining the sky; the sun peeking over the horizon in the morning as tiny beads of light before rushing over in continuous streams; the curious shadows cast upon the ground by clouds floating carelessly above; birds twittering and swirling on never-ceasing thermals and carefree winds; the quiet, gentle calm before a rain and the sweet, freshness following; the crimson blush beneath the sun's final intent gaze; the moon rising on a curtain of black velvet; the stars shining like diamonds. Yet, Yagami Light saw none of these things; only the vast, emptiness of the void surrounding him. Opening his eyes changed nothing, the void was still there. The sickly white room had been constructed in a perfect dome, giving the illusion of never ending. Hundreds of concealed cameras were all fixed upon him, but Light did not care. They will always be there, so I'm better off learning to live with them.
But you never will. His mind replied, It does not matter how many lifetimes you spend in this room, you will never be used to them. Pausing, Light silently agreed with this thought while vaguely recalling a time when L had done the same, in an attempt to reveal proof of Light's guilt firsthand. Yet, he never did. He smirked at the thought; It was only at the very end of it all that Ryuzaki discovered my little secret. Light's eyes darkened over as painful memories of the past swept over him. "Time for an exercise break, I suppose." He murmured to himself, trying to hold the darkness that was bound to overcome him, one day, at bay.
Preparing for vigorous training, he began to count aloud as his body weight shifted across his shoulders and arms; bringing his nose level with the ground, then above it again, "One…Two…"
Enveloped in the calm, monotonous pace of his body's rising and falling, Light started to think logically again. These things are always mind over matter, I cannot allow myself to become trapped within my mind as well as within these walls, especially since that is what everyone is hoping for. Light recalled his final moments above ground; the dull thunk of the judge's gavel, the intense release of pressure in the room as hundreds of spectators finally exhaled, and L's expression of triumph and grief. How quickly the tables had turned that fateful day…Knowing in his heart how easily the world could've fit into his palm did not change the outcome of the events. It all came back to that one moment in time where everything had been precariously held in the balance, and L's unexpected reaction. Calming himself down, he focussed on the numbers leaving his lips, "…49…50…"
Holding onto the calm that had again cleared his mind, Light carefully recalled his years in the past, treading his thoughts like a swimmer in the presence of a great white shark. Though many years had passed, sleepless nights were still spent pondering dangerous thoughts of a time when it had been Light who held the upper hand. I suppose the higher you stand, the harder you fall. He remembered it as if it were yesterday; the faces of every man and woman who fell under his judgement remained as clear in Light's mind as if they hadn't actually breathed their last. Such was the way of life. A normal man would've collapsed with guilt merely contemplating such acts, yet what Light felt was not guilt; it was satisfaction. People like that don't understand the true value of life and they thrive on the justice system's corrupt compassion. I see them for what they are and in the end, justice will always prevail. There can be no mercy for the merciless. Fragments of his self control began to waver as he delved deeper into his thoughts. And yet, Ryuzaki does not seem to understand this. To him, justice is a warm blanket, a place to draw victims in while leaving offenders out, punishing them with the cold. However, the world is not divided into victims and criminals, neither is it divided by the strong and the weak. Light's pace went off-tempo while his mind became agitated. Victims of an awful tragedy sometimes sought out revenge by hunting down and killing unsuspecting, yet known affiliates of the murderer as 'closure'. Who then was the criminal, the heartless dead man or the headstrong victim? Agitation became anger. Under Ryuzaki's justice, many criminals, like the 'poor' victim, were sheltered under that warm blanket. Light's eyes glazed over dangerously. Our world is divided by the good and the evil, nothing else. Justice is not a warm blanket, it is an iron curtain; keeping the light inside and the darkness out.
"…99…100…101" Thoughts of Ryuzaki had brought forth the darkness within him, tempting to fray the bonds securing his consciousness. Light smiled to himself, You will not defeat me that easily, Ryuzaki; we will meet again. I cannot be contained forever, Kira will rise once more. Light suddenly recalled a time when L said that he enjoyed his company. I wonder where these years have taken you, old friend? Have they been any kinder than they have to me?
6 6 6
Staring intently at the holographic monitor in front of him, L balanced various cubes of cakes and sweets on top of each other expertly, like a child would Lego blocks, before flicking them into his mouth and swallowing them upon impact. Half eaten pies and unfinished gelatine cups surrounded his work space, obviously regarded with much less attention then the screen in front of him. Leaning back in his comfortable, yet well worn, swivelling recliner with his knees drawn into his chest, L stared ceaselessly at the ghost of his past, who was now deeply enthralled by the momentum of his own body's rising and falling. According to patterns in his behaviour, exercise appeared to be Light's favourite past-time, but L saw something different than the readings upon the screen. From time to time, Light's eyes would glaze over. Quickly thereafter, with his brow furrowed in concentration, his pace would increase dramatically. Eventually, the darkness would leave his eyes and his momentous rate would drop back to a comfortable, almost monotonous, level. Exercise is not Light's past-time; L thought to himself, it is his escape. The greatest thing about solitary confinement was its affect upon the criminal. Even the hardest criminals cracked beneath the pressure after a few months time, yet after many life sentences in that room, Light managed to retain his sanity, even his calm demeanour. Perhaps there was still strength left within him. L both delighted and dreaded that thought's truth.
Sipping his tea, L stood up and turned away from the monitors, stretching his cramped legs for the first time that day. L glanced at the clock, 5:58; it wasn't too late to call the whole operation off. In fact, all three world leaders were probably hoping for that very phone call. L considered that thought. Why shouldn't they, this is, perhaps, the gravest decision their position of influence would possibly allow; in fact, that was even a stretch of their authority. Taking another drink of his tea, L paced the room to the window, where a peculiar sight captured his attention. A blackbird that had flown past his window earlier was now seated on his windowpane, attending his wing which bent impossibly sideways. Confused by the situation, L's arm went limp, causing tea to splash across the floor. He cocked his head at the bird like a curious puppy, seeking answers for an unknown problem. The blackbird, in turn, tilted his head while chirping softly, as if requesting help. Setting his empty teacup on a tray, L reached towards the bird. Without hesitation, the bird eagerly hopped up onto his outstretched palm while chirping. L scratched his head with his free hand, unsure of what to do. How is this bird so certain I will help him, and why this window rather than others easier to access with a broken wing?
As if in reply to his thoughts, the bird chirped again and turned to face the window. Still puzzled, L glanced outside. Down below, many people were passing through a busy park; friends were laughing together, couples cuddled despite the heat, grandfathers proved to their grandsons having fun was not defined by age, and dogs bounded playfully with their masters. Understanding began to fit the pieces of the puzzle together within his mind.
The holographic monitor beeped behind him, but L hardly noticed. Raising the bird to chest height, L acknowledged him, "Is it because I noticed you when the others didn't?" Though the bird gaveno response, he seemed in agreement with L's deduction. Staring at the bird while raising him to eye level, L continued, "So that means you want to stay here then, right?" Still the bird gave no response, yet did not seem to object to the idea. L paused a moment before resuming, "Alright, I suppose that will be ok, but I have rules to be followed and I am very strict about them. It isn't too late to change your mind and pick someone else." A soft, but resolute chirp finalized the agreement.
Before L could continue, a voice interrupted, "Er, Ryuzaki… are you alright?"
Turning around while stuffing the bird, who objected with a squawk, beneath his loose shirt, L noticed a concerned general's face hovering above a metallic projector. Clasping the bird's beak shut, L replied, "I am quite alright, thank you."
The general's face searched the room, "I thought I heard you talking earlier…"
L vaguely remembered the metallic monitor beeping a while ago. A muffled shriek of anger passed through the cloth of his white, long-sleeved shirt while L replied, "I think you must be mistaken; there is no one in the room but myself."
The general paused, then responded, "Very well, what are your orders regarding Operation Final Checkmate?"
L hesitated, uncertain how to react. This is exactly what had been weighing so heavily upon his mind moments before noticing the bird on his windowpane. Pulling the collar of his shirt forward with his free hand, L peered at the blackbird beneath. Angered by L's bluntness, the bird glared back. The humorous look upon its face reminded L of all the other innocent gazes in the park below; sitting on benches or passing by unconcernedly. L briefly recalled a promise made earlier, I was the only man for the job then; I am the only one now. The game remains the same, and I must do what I must.
"Er… Ryuzaki, what are your orders regarding Operation Final Checkmate?"
Looking up from within his shirt, L saw the now deeply concerned expression upon the general's face. Then, as if nothing had occurred in the last couple of moments, L replied, "Clearance granted. Commence phase one."
The Austrian-Hungarian General glanced around the room one last time before disappearing into the projector. Pulling the bird out of his shirt, L chided the creature, "See what you've done, I hope you aren't always going to be this much trouble for me." With a 'that's what you get for stuffing me into your damn shirt' look on his face, the bird hobbled out of L's hand onto his shoulder.
Turning to face the window, they gazed at the streaming crowds of people below. He confided in his friend, "I'm afraid you've entered the battle on the losing side, little bird. I hope you know what you are doing."
7 7 7
"…88…89…" Now lying on his back, Light focussedall of his being into pulling his upper body weight to his neatly bent knees using only his abdominal muscles. More intensely than before, Light chastised himself for allowing his brain to delve so deeply into his unconscious rage. The one thing that separates me from all the criminals I have punished and will punish is my goodness. I cannot lose that, or else justice shall find me as well. Karma has a funny way of catching up to people who least expect it. Spiting his inner demons, Light regained his logical thinking. Still, he worried himself. Years ago, I would never have buried myself so deeply in emotion. This game cannot remain a stalemate forever; eventually one side must fail. What will win; my reason or madness?
As if in reply to his hypothetical pondering, an ominous sound resonated in the room's perfect acoustics; resembling the dying seconds of a saw blade whirring through empty space while still maintaining a hauntingly purposeful melody.
Light sat up, scanning the room out of alarm and curiosity. That sound… I've heard it before… While Light searched his memory, a hiss broke the still silence. Moments later, a second one ensued. Realization dawned upon Light as images of his past flashed before his eyes; the dull thunk of the judge's gavel upon the dais; the feel of cold metal secured tightly to his wrists; and finally being dragged in chains across a long hallway beside criminals he longed desperately to eliminate. As he plunged deeper into memory, the hatred, rage, and evil lurking within him began to seep through to his consciousness. With each passing memory, Light began to resign to the darkness. Just as the candle of his righteousness began to flicker out, a third hiss filled the room and Light was thrown back into consciousness, gasping for breath. With each soothing breath, the chaos of his memories subsided. Closing his eyes, he visualized the chains being released from his arms and the self-sealing doors to his cell begin to shut. Apart from his heart's pounding, the final sound echoing throughout the room was the haunting melody of the cell sealing itself permanently. Light's eyes jarred open. But, if I am hearing it now, then that must mean…"
The answer to his thoughts became dramatically clear as the doors to his penitential prison began to retract. What seemed to be hundreds of laser tracers immediately locked onto his chest, ensuring his captivity. Light smiled to himself. So they haven't forgotten me yet. As soldiers poured into the room, Light's smile increased. Humanity's insatiability for justice has brought them to their knees, and look how far they crawl. Soon, Light would be surrounded completely, yet he no longer cared, nor noticed. Footsteps echoed throughout the cell and still his smile intensified. The childish years of Ryuzaki's justice have finally come to an end, and the people still thirst for the blood of their foe. They long for the age of Kira to return, and I will humbly oblige their call. Gazing heavenward, he whispered to no noticeable figure, "Bring it on."
