The plot will generally follow the anime's plot-line for a while, so bear with the regurgitation of events. ._.
Same as before, the italic parts are from Destirome's father's letter. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, obviously.
Luggage rumbled as it rolled along on tattered wheels on the sidewalk as Destirome dragged it along behind her, her eyes avoiding the people around her, the names and lifespans floating around endlessly, a typical part of her normal vision, as if it could be normal to see such an anomaly above everyone. It was distracting, and above all, an awful thing to know. Every time she saw her friends, there was always a constant reminder of when she would lose them above their heads. The letter her father left her in his notebook told her everything, including how to translate the numbers into human time. It was always especially difficult if the date was close; it wasn't like she could follow her friend everywhere that day, and even if she did, was it against the rules for her to stop their death because she was part Shinigami, even without using the Death Note?
Not like she ever would use it. The accursed thing brought only misery to everyone around it, especially her. There were so many things that her father had known about it, and she had learned a lot about its operation and what rules a Shinigami must follow from the letter he had left her. Yet she was neither human nor Shinigami entirely—would the rules still fully apply?
She ran a hand through her hair in exasperation as she halted in front of a tall building, her eyes tracing the shining glass windows. Nerves twisted in her stomach like writhing maggots, chewing holes into her until nothing remained. The last time she had seen L, she was still a normal human, completely unaware of her other side. He was always brilliantly perceptive, and she could never hide anything from him; what if he deduced what she was? Then again, she always had her Shinigami side, she could just never see it. Maybe he really wouldn't notice.
As Destirome walked up the many flights of stairs, her mind wandered to the day she had seen herself for the first time. She was leaving for her university, starting a new chapter in her life. Nostalgically, she went back to her old home, abandoned for years since her parents died.
Our fatal mistake was years later, when a moment of shy affection turned into a blissful, passionate night of something much more. Eliane became pregnant, and everything went downhill from there.
She died during childbirth. A half Shinigami baby wasn't completely compatible with a fully human body, and it caused her to bleed to death. I think it might have been mostly the horns that caused many internal wounds. I'm amazed she stayed alive through the entire pregnancy, honestly.
The whole time, I was helpless. I panicked; I didn't know what to do. I don't think there was anything I could have done, now. We couldn't have gone to a hospital; what if you were born with visible Shinigami aspects, even to humans? The doctors would think your mother birthed a demon and then you would have probably been taken away for scientific analysis. We both didn't want that for you, and it was much too risky. We didn't know how Shinigami and human genes would mix, and what that would result in. You could have been born completely invisible to everyone that had never touched your nonexistent Death Note, for all we knew. I tried so hard to deliver you and save your mother at the same time, but I guess it didn't matter. Her fate was sealed. But you were still supposed to live on.
Your mother held you after you were born, Destirome. I gave you to her as soon as you were safely out. She wrapped her weak arms around you so she could hold you for the first and last time, and then she died with you in her arms. She was smiling still. I remember she used to always want a girl if she ever had a family. You were a dream come true to her.
Her grave is outside our house in the garden that she always tended to. The day I buried her the flowers looked wilted as if the part of her living inside them had died too. Lately you've been talking to your mother's grave as if she's still here. Just today you told her your favorite color was blue and you told her a story about a butterfly you saw. The flowers haven't looked wilted since you began talking to her. You still make her happy, wherever she is.
I tried to take care of you as best I could, but even though I lived with your mother for years, there were still plenty of things I didn't know about taking care of humans, especially babies. I can only hope that you think of me as an adequate father. I'm not sure of how you feel towards me at the current moment, or what you think happened to me, but I want you to know what really happened to me, or at least at the time that I'm writing this, what will happen.
Being with your mother and having sexual relations is against the rules where I come from, and the punishment is death. I know I can't keep you a secret forever. The other Shinigami will find out about you, and when that happens, I'll be killed and you'll be left alone, or worse…
I hope you remembered the phone number that I left near the phone. You were a smart little girl, I'm sure you remembered all those times that I told you that if you ever found yourself alone, to call that number. Watari was one of your mother's friends and taught her how to read and write when she lost her vision. I'm sure he took good care of you.
Honestly, she had never seen her father when she was growing up. He had kept his Death Note hidden, along with the letter, waiting for when she was old enough to know and understand everything. She had never touched his Note, and even though she was a part of him, she still could never see him. However, his voice could be heard. Destirome spent her early years being cared for by floating objects and a voice coming from nowhere. It was never unsettling or strange to her, though; that was what she had known all her life, so it seemed normal.
When she arrived at her home before going to her university, she just wanted to remember her family and visit her mother's grave, maybe take an item or two for memories. It was when she was searching for a picture of her mother that she found a black notebook, wrapped in plastic. Curious hands pulled it out, finding rules in Braille to the side, and a few folded pages stuck inside.
A picture fell to the dusty wood floor. A smiling woman, with blank eyes and dark brown hair that glowed with warmth in the sunlight. Her name was printed on the back: Eliane DeCrez.
It wasn't until she reached the last word of her father's letter and had stared in shocked contemplation at his unique handwriting for several minutes that she broke down, running into the bathroom to stare into the mirror in horror at herself—the self that she had been all along, but now the truth was laid plainly in front of her eyes since she touched her father's Death Note.
She was a monster, but so was her father. Was it really that bad? No, she was accepting of her form, for the most part, because even though her father had been the same, he was still so kind and loving. A monster could only be a monster on the inside—physical appearances meant nothing. Her appearance disturbed her, yes, but it was the fact that she had lived a lie all her life that made her cry and hold her head in her hands helplessly. It was the idea that she was stuck between existences and had no idea what rules to follow, it was the idea of unseen beings constantly monitoring her, waiting for a moment where she'd screw up or they'd suddenly deem her a broken rule and kill her. It was the idea of uncertainty that scared her the most.
Therefore, the moniker of monster came to symbolize not her appearance, but her future, all of the uncertainty and danger that lurked in plain sight, not even needing to hide in the shadows or in the unforgotten corners of her life. It was a threat out in the open daylight, and it was wiser to fear that which is unafraid to be seen, because that meant it was confident. It knew the damage it could do. There was the threat of the Shinigami King deciding whether to keep her alive or kill her, the threat of someone discovering what she was, the threat of whether or not she could bend or break the Shinigami rules—all it took was one wrong move or someone else with a Death Note, and there would be a ton of trouble.
Yet as she knocked on the door, giving a moment to breathe before she stepped into the main room to meet everyone and looked around at her new co-workers, her heart stopped.
Yes, there would be a ton of trouble, indeed.
Her eyes hadn't fixated on L, no matter how relieving it was to see him again after so long. Her eyes weren't even focused on any of her new colleagues. No, the ice in her eyes burned into the letters above a certain Light Yagami's head. Just the letters—there were no numbers. He had no lifespan visible to her.
He had a Death Note.
Trying to act normal despite her heart beating in her throat, her gaze nonchalantly glided over everyone once again before trailing to L's face, trying her best to ignore the danger of the situation as she pasted a slight smile onto her face. She just walked in and already she could be killed. Did L know he was working with a potential murderer? Was this Light guy actually Kira? Where was his Shinigami?
"L, thank you for inviting me here. It's good to see you again." She turned to the rest of the group, bowing slightly. "I'm Rome DeCaria. I'll be working with you all from now on." An alias she had thought up on the spot, made from L's nickname for her and her psychology professor's last name. She had figured she could trust the task force with her real identity, but knowing that there was someone with a Death Note that would now only need her name… she couldn't risk it, whether he would ever think of killing her or not.
But could a Death Note even kill her? Shinigami couldn't die from having their names written in a Death Note, did that apply to her at all? It was too risky to find out.
As each man in turn introduced himself, her eyes focused intently on their body language, trying to assess the mood of the place and the relations between the task force. Most of them seemed to genuinely be glad to have another person there to help with their investigation, apparently having high hopes for her. If she was L's friend and he wanted her to come, she must be pretty brilliant. Everyone seemed to be accepting of her—except prime suspect number one, of course.
Light's kindness would have fooled most people, but she knew better. It seemed forced, and his eyes were cold and calculating, probably trying to tell just how much of a threat she was. He didn't like the idea of having someone new around. While everyone else saw it as a good thing that L had asked her to come, he saw it as just another person that was highly capable of finding out who Kira was, who he was, if he was actually Kira. Who knew, it could be a coincidence that a man with a Death Note was here with the task force when there was a mass murderer that killed mainly with a heart attack, the default death of a Death Note, on the loose and hadn't been caught by people that were more than capable of doing so, but honestly, there was nothing more obvious. All of these deaths were because of a Death Note, and he just so happened to have one.
Maybe there was another person with a Death Note nearby, but what were the odds? Only seven Death Notes could be functional in the human world at a time. Could there really be three—Light's, someone else's, and hers inherited from her father that she kept with her for safekeeping—all in the same general area?
"So, how did you meet L anyway, Rome?" Matsuda's voice tore Destirome from her thoughts, her eyes trailing away from the wall to his face, a smile brightening her features as she looked at innocently curious man.
"We lived in the same orphanage as kids." In her peripheral vision, she could see L stiffen—he still never liked to talk about his past, let alone have other people talk about it around him. Her words stopped there, though, knowing L wouldn't want her to continue—she could have told the full story, of how the two of them were both outcasts even in their temporary home, of how one day as she watched another strange kid like her get bullied, she promptly walked over and punched the two antagonists in the face. Granted, she had gotten in trouble for it and had to wash the dishes for a two weeks as punishment, but the kid she had saved had quietly come to her aid and helped her through the mountains of dishes, and they've been best friends since.
"Ah, you both don't have a family?" Matsuda seemed empathetic, the slight surprise in his eyes replaced with understanding. "That's really too bad, but at least you have each other. And you two stayed in contact for that long? Man, I'm a little jealous." He tried to lighten the mood at least, and for that, Destirome was grateful.
"It's nothing to be jealous over, some friendships are just meant to last that long, while others aren't. Besides, you could be more fortunate in other aspects, such as having a family whereas we don't," She reasoned, walking over near the large blank screen with pointed toes, about to take a seat next to L's chair, when she paused, noticing a small object on the seat. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a lollipop, laying plainly like an offering to her. L had known she'd sit there and had given a small but subtle token of appreciation to her; a sort of welcoming gift. Porcelain hands took off the wrapper and brought the lollipop to her mouth, a smile tracing over her lips. Green apple. He still knew her favorite flavor.
"So, care to fill me in on some more details of the Kira case, anyone?" Destirome spoke around the lollipop in her mouth, relaxing into the chair as she looked curiously around the dark room, tapping her foot on the ground absentmindedly. "L didn't tell me much about it yet. All I know is that someone can kill with just a name and a face, typically by means of a heart attack, and they're obviously somewhere here in Japan." Honestly, she knew quite a bit more about the case than that, but she was hoping that she would see who was willing to explain, hoping to get some sort of reaction that she could read into from anyone.
"Currently we suspect a second Kira, one that can kill with only a face," L reasoned, taking a sip of his coffee. She pressed her lips together as she watched him—she knew he still must drown his beverages in sugar, no wonder the man could never sleep. He seriously needed to take better care of himself. Yet her mind snapped back to his words as she fully processed them, realizing it was a new piece of information as she stiffened in the chair. Another Death Note? Someone with the eyes, too?
She had assumed the first Kira didn't have the eyes considering his pattern. Now that there were two Kiras instead of one, Light was definitely one of them, without any shred of doubt. But which one? The one with the eyes, or without? He hadn't reacted in any way to her fake name, was that genuine naivety or could he hide his thoughts that well? Whoever the second Kira was, Destirome knew that she could never be seen by them. Their eyes would see that she had no lifespan, and she would either be recruited into killing with the Kiras or she would be eliminated as soon as possible for being too much of a threat, if she could even be killed, since she was friends with L and thus not likely to betray him, plus she knew the secrets of the Death Note, which were key to finding the culprits. Most likely the second option would occur.
"Light is suspected to be the original Kira, as well." L noted, making Mr. Yagami stiffen as Light strangely enough lowered his head. Destirome calmed a bit; at least she was seen by the one without the eyes.
"Ryuzaki… I feel like you might be right… I could… be Kira." Light's voice sounded drained of all emotion as he stared calmly at L. It felt there should be fire in his words, denial, but his tone was oddly enough devoid of any anger, any indignation, leaving a strange, heavy gap in the atmosphere from his simple compliance. L turned his head to look at Light, a small hint of surprise tracing his features at this revelation. Destirome shifted in her chair, staring incredulously at the boy. She comes all the way here and the case is already solving itself? No, it wouldn't be that simple. Kira's killed hundreds of people, he wouldn't suddenly have a conscience.
"No, Light, what are you saying? Don't do this to yourself! Why would you even consider this?" His father said, startled at his son's sudden revelation, standing in front of him as he demanded answers, holding his shoulders so his offspring would have to look him in the eyes, but Light's eyes remained downcast.
"Dad, listen. Can you really dispute that I have seemed suspicious plenty of times? Other than that, why else would I continue to be a suspect after all this time? L's one of the world's best detectives, and if he's pretty set on the idea that I'm Kira—well, it's his word against mine, and his holds a lot more weight."
"But Light—"
"Dad, everything really has been revolving around me. The FBI agent that died shortly after investigating me, the fact that I was the first person Misa, the supposed second Kira, approached—is there really anyone else that could seem more suspicious? If I were L, I'd suspect me, too."
Light stared at his hands for a moment, seemingly contemplating the power he held in his hands before bringing them to his head, tilting his eyes towards the ceiling. "It all seems too coincidental not to be true. I know I don't have any memory or knowledge of being Kira, but what if I'm him subconsciously? I could be committing all of these terrible murders without even knowing it."
His eyes drifted back down to the ground, his hands hanging down at his sides, just the shell of a man defeated. "I'd never want to kill anyone, but who knows what I'm capable of subconsciously? I mean, lately I've been thinking that some criminals need to die—I can see Kira's side of things. If I can think like him, and I'm already a suspect, how can I be sure I'm not him?"
Destirome huffed as her ice blue eyes stared holes into the boy like icicles shot from a gun, causing everyone's attention to turn to her, startled a bit at the interruption of her silence as they still weren't used to her presence. She ran a hand through her hair in exasperation, ruffling the dark red tresses slightly with a thoughtful rub. "You're using every bit of evidence possible to make us think you really are Kira. Just a bit counterproductive for an 'innocent', no? I mean, really, using mindsets as proof? Many people sympathize and see the other side or can even agree with the other side, but that doesn't mean they are really of that side. You can agree with your enemies and still be against them. Even if you have been psychologically manipulating yourself into believing that you are Kira, isn't it a bit over the top to try to convince everyone else that's already been suspecting you with things they already knew or assumed? There's no completely new information that couldn't even be assumed in this little tirade to them, and you know it."
She bit down on the small sphere of lollipop still left, shattering its remnants like dropped glass, sucking on the shards thoughtfully as she nibbled on the stick. "It should have been just enough to convince yourself with all of this information that you are Kira, but now you feel the need to convince those that could do something awful to you if they decide you're right? If you've been Kira this whole time, even subconsciously, that part of you obviously fights to stay alive and keeps you under control effortlessly, considering you haven't had this revelation previously and that this seems too sudden and, as I stated before, overly-detailed. This whole thing is suicide to the Kira in you since you're just supporting the suspicions against you, giving these men every reason to do something to you—no, the Kira in you wouldn't let you say all of this unless it was hoping to get something out of this. Maybe a way to get rid of all of the suspicion is to go along with the crowd, hmm?"
The lollipop stick was tossed into the nearby trashcan, echoing a dull thud as it hit the bottom that held a surprising amount of resonance in the room. "After all, nobody suspects the guy that's trying to catch the bad guys, isn't that right, Light? So that's why you're part of the task force. It's all a matter of using people's preconceived notions against them. You'd expect a detective to be good and above crime since ironically he's the one that stops criminals, but because of that assumption that detective equals good, it's the perfect place for a criminal to hide, especially considering Kira hasn't been caught yet, coincidentally. That's all you'd have to do to stay above the radar typically, but you're against L and he still sees you as a suspect, and you can't stand it. So, you decide to agree and think that you may be guilty, going against the typical normal behavior of any person to confuse your opponents, because both innocent and guilty always fight to prove their innocence. They'll argue for their innocence, but it's not like they'll ever go to great lengths and tiny details to prove their guilt. It's like I said before—your Kira side wants something, and you're going against what people expect you to do in order to throw them off so they'll inadvertently give you what you want."
Destirome stood, uncomfortable with sitting for very long, stretching a bit in satisfaction as everyone processed her words, speechless for a moment at how thorough her analysis had been as they tried to find a way to respond. L, not phased or surprised in the slightest at how her mind worked, held out a piece of hard candy to her, which she gladly accepted. Green apple again. So this is how things would work. Speak what's on his mind, get treats. She could get used to this.
The two exchanged a look that held levels of understanding within a simple second, a mere solitary 'tick' of a clock. It was what Light wanted, but it was also a good opportunity that couldn't be wasted. After all, what else could they do right now? "Your points are as thorough as always," L almost looked like he was going to smile, looking up at nothing in thought as he nibbled on his thumb. "I'd like to have Light immediately fully restrained and placed into solitary confinement. Whether you are Kira or not will be made apparent in due time during this period."
Psychological warfare at its finest—not only would the solidarity be maddening, but the constant feeling of being caged and restrained would surely have a large impact as well. He would slowly be worn down in both mind and body until he lost his composure and spilled his secret, with no difficulty placed on L besides playing the waiting game. Or maybe Light would develop and change as some sort of spiritual and moral metamorphosis, becoming an enlightened Henry David Thoreau amidst his own twisted Walden Pond cabin, effectively stopping his desire to be Kira on his own accord. It all depended on how well Light would take this solitude and this bondage.
"Ryuzaki, this is absolutely crazy!" The chief fumed, stepping towards L as a challenge. "My son is not capable of being Kira and these extreme measures can't possibly be acceptable. You can't…"
"Dad, Ryuzaki has a point. This might be the best option. He could finally get his answer and the proof he needs, and I could too. I can't work on this case when I'm constantly wondering if I'm the suspect I've been looking for this whole time." Light shifted on his feet, a new resolve burning in his eyes. "Ryuzaki, promise me that you won't let me out until you are absolutely sure without a doubt that I'm not Kira, no matter what I say or what constitution I'm in."
"But son— "
"Mr. Yagami, if he is willing to go through this, I won't deny him a chance to prove himself. I will need you to come up with an excuse for Light's absence for his family, now, please." L interrupted nonchalantly, staring into his half-empty coffee cup.
The chief looked sullen as he stared blankly at the man before him, too angered and nervous, like he not only felt indignation at having his son accused, but like he was truly afraid of the answer that he would get from this experiment. "What should I say? This is too sudden, and he shouldn't be imprisoned like this—"
"Mr. Yagami, if I may," Destirome walked over to the distressed father, bowing her head slightly, trying to be comforting from a distance and distracting at the same time as Aizawa uneasily grabbed his handcuffs, walking towards Light. "I can suggest a few excuses that could be acceptable. And sir, we will try our best to make sure this whole ordeal isn't too debilitating on him. I can understand your concerns, but this small period of incarceration could be beneficial to you both. If he's not Kira, then he'll be let out after a few weeks or so completely cleared of suspicion, so that he and everyone else can be confident that he isn't Kira and we can work on the case knowing full well that Kira is not amongst us. Is that not better than working on this case for months carrying on like you have been, with the constant feeling of mistrust and accusation around here, a constant feeling of uncertainty and doubt?"
She tentatively put a hand on the man's shoulder, looking into his eyes with as much empathy as she could muster. "I know it's hard, but we're all here for you."
He turned to his son as the door opened, his heart visibly dropping as he gazed at Light, the handcuffs, and the blindfold as if he was already convicted. "Are you absolutely sure of this, Light?"
"If it means giving up my freedom to defeat this fear of Kira within me, yes." His voice was strong and confident. It would be interesting to see just how long that lasted.
"Aizawa, please take him away." L handed Destirome another hard candy, which she happily accepted, but just kept in her hand as she turned to watch the two men's backs disappear as the door shut behind them, echoing in the silent room with an empty resonance.
I hope that when you read this, you've had a wonderful life and have made many close friends. I know you're probably confused and a bit panicked at all of this new information right now, but don't be afraid. You're still yourself, you haven't changed a bit. You've always been just the way you are, and you will always be.
There is a lot that you'll have to learn on your own, especially about your existence and what laws you may have to abide by or can ignore. I regret not being able to tell you what you can and cannot do, but I simply don't know how much my Shinigami genes have affected you and in what ways.
But I want you to know that no matter what, you just need to follow your instincts first. Don't worry about what you can or cannot do—you'll never know until you happen upon it. Until then, don't fret about it, it'll do no good to worry constantly about things that you can never be sure of until they happen. It's more important for you to make your own decisions, unafraid of the consequences. As long as you're happy.
This road could be hard for you. There will be many unknowns, but you need to keep your head held high and face all adversity and confusion confidently. I'm always by your side, and so is your mother.
Just do what makes you happy, is all I ask. I don't want you to get hurt, Destirome, but sometimes pain has to come before happiness. As long as you're smiling in the end.
Just keep smiling.
