Disclaimer: I do not own "Death Note" or "Naruto". These characters solely belong to Masashi Kishimoto, sugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata.
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Answer to Guest: Nope, Sasuke doesn't find love in this fic. Sorry~
Chapter Warning: A lot of cursing because of Hidan.
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Fact of the Day: Sasuke hates Light
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"Oi, have you found the heathen bastard, yet?"
Sasuke squints over the brim of his cup. It takes a couple of seconds to register - through the foggy haze that has become his mind - what Hidan had said. Ever since the unfortunate…encounter with Kira, he's been sullenly zoned out.
It showed.
"Goddammit, you little shit, have you been pulling all-nighters again?"
Sasuke gives a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat, which quickly turns into a wordless cry of exasperation when Hidan inelegantly jumps onto his desk. Planting himself in front of Sasuke.
With practiced ease, Sasuke ignores the hiss of studying students.
"What the hell're you thinking?" Hidan growls in his face. "Remember last time you were tired on the job? You sent a Buddhist to hell!"
Oh, Sasuke remembers. It hurts to even think about it.
"He was alright in the end." Sasuke mulishly grumbles.
Hidan's eyes light up like a malevolent Christmas tree.
"The fuck he was!" He bitches. "When we finally managed to pull the unlucky bastard out he looked like he went toe to toe against some majorly pissed off God and tragically lost! The he cried. On. Me. Then he vomited. On. Me." Leaving a terrible pause between two words.
"I remember."
"Oh do you now?" He snarls viciously. "Because I don't think you do if you're up all night doing work."
"Some people would call that being productive."
"Fuck productivity! When you don't sleep you make the decisions of a dumbass twelve year old."
"At twelve years old I was considered to become a Chunnin."
"At twelve years old you prostituted yourself to Orochimaru you little shit."
Sasuke falls silent at that. Feeling both indignant and reluctantly shameful.
He briefly closes his eyes. "I have regrets."
"Well." Hidan snorts. Grin sour. "At least you're self aware."
"Self-aware. Yeah," grumbles Sasuke. Taking a long gulp of his coffee to wet his suddenly dry throat. He didn't like to be reminded of his mistakes. It made him think. It makes him conjure up unrealistic 'what if' scenarios that keep him awake at two in the morning mourning people who are alive in another world.
"Oi! Have you found the Godless asshole? King hasn't checked up on the investigation for a while and it's making almost wet myself in dreaded anticipation."
A sly smile slid over Sasuke's face. He enjoys the way Hidan's expression froze.
"You've got to be shitting me. Finally?" He sounds delighted.
"Hn."
"Ugh. I could kiss you!"
Sasuke is utterly aghast. "Please don't."
. . .
"What a plain fucking house." Hidan notes in a swooping gesture. "You're sure this is the right address? 'cause this cannot be the place where a mass murderer lives. His family cannot be that well-adjusted."
Sasuke glances at the address he'd written on his palm. The kanji was a little smudged but he could still read it.
He gives a head nod.
"Shit." Hidan tips his head back a fraction, glaring at the house. "Jashin-sama's gonna be pissed I can't sacrifice this guy."
"Hn." Sasuke grunts helpfully.
There was a dull ring and Hidan swore. Flipping out the company's phone all Captains were required to carry. Pressing accept the man waves at Sasuke and says; "go forth and behead the shitty heathen."
Sasuke nods, leaping over Yagami's hedge and with the casual grace of a cat, lands silently on their target's windowsill. Picks the lock and slinks into the young man's bedroom.
Yagami's room isn't anything interesting. In fact, it was so disinteresting Sasuke had a nagging urge to disregard it completely.
The room has no hint of a teenage boy ever living in it. No band posters, no video games, no manga, it was stripped bare of anything that would give away a hint of his personality.
If he even has one.
Now, where was Yagami hiding the Death Note?
Scanning the room, Sasuke flipped through the bookshelf, patted down the bed, before finally opening the desk draws. There lying for all the world to see was the notebook of death.
Sasuke takes back everything nice he had to say about Yagami. The boy was an idiot.
Pulling out the desk chair, he flops in it and waits.
. . .
Ryuk's silent.
He has been for the past eight hours.
Light glances at the Shinigami, careful not to draw attention from his mother and Sayu.
Silent.
What's wrong with him?
Sighing, Light unlocks the front door, toing off his shoes and asks his mother if he could do anything to help. Light could see her struggling with emotions, and for the first time since he's picked up the Death Note, Light felt helpless.
"It's alright, dear." She says lightly, patting his shoulders gently as though he'd keel over at the slightest touch before running a soothing hand over Sayu's hair. Sayu normally would have shrieked or thrown a little fit at being coddled, but she didn't seem to notice the touch. Eyes glazed over in a far away look. Light flexes his fingers in a need for movement. They've been this way ever since leaving Dad at the hospital. "It's alright." Mum repeats in reassurance, voice sounding so distant.
"Are you sure?" He prodded.
His mother turns her head away from him for a second, eyes closed tightly. "Yes, dear. I'm sure. Go help your sister to her room."
Apart of him didn't want to leave her alone because his mother obviously wasn't okay and he's heard people who suffer from trauma shouldn't be left alone. Almost losing dad to a heart attack could be seen as trauma - studying the way Sayu hadn't blinked in a while.
Light couldn't help the deep unease that seeped itself into his heart as he watched the way his mother walk to the kitchen to prepare dinner. He didn't like this feeling. He didn't know how to handle foreign emotions. It was frightening and new and he didn't know how to handle it.
"Okay." He concedes with a small nod, pulling his mind towards the Death Note and ignoring the feelings. Gently pressing a hand against Sayu's back, Light steers her towards the stairs. She rocks slightly at the touch but follows without a word. She's so quiet…
The tightening in his heart thumps and Light feels momentarily off-balance. He shakes his head, leading Sayu to her room and leaves her standing in the doorway awkwardly as slides the schoolbag off her skinny shoulders.
She should eat more, he absently notes and takes out her homework, planting it on her desk along with colourful pens he has no idea why she needs. About to leave, Light dithers, hand sliding into his pocket and pulling out a chocolate bar Ryuga–L had handed him in the hospital before he left. Apologizing about his father, as though he had some part to blame for him being there. Maybe he did. And for some unknown reason that made him clench his hands into fists, frustrated and furious.
Light grits his teeth. Deciding to blame his sudden stroke of bad luck today on that weird guy that breathed in his ear.
"Here." He said, handing the chocolate bar to Sayu with the flick of the wrist.
Finally, she blinks. Gaze sliding to it blankly. Seconds pass and she makes no move to take it. Sighing, Light plants it firmly in her tiny hand. Sealing it with a pat.
"Eat this, it'll make you feel better." He echoes Ryu-L's earlier sentiments to him. She nods, and Light's not quite certain she heard him. He smiles anyway. "Don't worry, Dad'll be fine."
"How can you know that?" She asks, voice barely above a whisper as he leaves.
Light pretends to not have heard her.
. . .
The last thing Light expects when he walks into his room is to be staring down the end of a katana.
What?
"Yagami Light, to grant your soul passage to heaven, I will kill you now and save your corrupt soul. The twenty-seventh Shinigami King apologizes for any inconveniences this may create."
What?
"What? Shinigami King? Corrupt soul- who the heck are you?"
There was a bark of laughter above him and Light grits his teeth in pure aggravation. Oh, now he makes sound. Of course he'd chose to break the silent treatment the moment Light's in mortal danger.
"Hehehe, you're new aren't you?" Ryuk asks giddily. "I don't remember you."
This person's a Shinigami then. Light narrows his eyes as he reflects on what the person – Shinigami, had said.
'Yagami Light, to grant your soul passage to heaven, I will kill you now and save your corrupt soul. The twenty-seventh Shinigami King apologizes for any inconveniences this may create.'
Ryuk did mention that a person in possession of a Death Note could neither go to heaven or hell. Light had originally assumed the Shinigami to be messing with him. Or testing him. He's never been particularly religious, but now…
A chill went down his spine as more things clicked together. Manifensting into a horrific puzzle piece.
Death Notes corrupt souls. They infest it. And here's a Shinigami, telling him that if he wants to go to Heaven he'll have to die. Now.
But I have so many plans.
What if he refuses? Can he refuse? If he can, does that mean when he does die in the future he'll go to hell?
"Hn."
There was a bemused pause, and Light's eyebrows climbed.
Oh you've got to be kidding.
"You?" Light says in a deadpan. "You're a Shinigami?"
"Hn."
The clarification does nothing to ease his mind. The guy who breathed in his ear is a Shinigami. The guy who breathed in his ear is going to kill him. And funnily enough, Light isn't panicking.
Maybe it's because of prolonged exposure to Ryuk. Maybe it's because L's breathing down his neck. Maybe it's because of the abrupt insomnia he's developing as the threat of going to prison and being given the death sentence is looming over him 24/7 . Either way.
It's been a long day.
And he really doesn't feel like kicking the bucket anytime soon. He's got plans. The God of the new world will live to see peace. Until that's achieved, he'll gladly risk going hell.
Composing himself and pushing all worries to the back of his mind, Light smiles. Linking his fingers together to keep them from shaking.
Right, time to bargain with a Shinigami. This'll be fun.
"If you think you're going to live to see sunrise your brain must be the size of a pea."
Shit.
Light doesn't so much as twitch – to some he'd look awfully confident, but really, his brain hiccuped. It's when Ryuk begins to cackle like a broken wind up toy that Light starts to quickly register his dire situation.
The katana swerves dangerously towards Ryuk. Leaving a thin, barely visible cut across Light's jugular. Shit. He didn't even notice it was against his skin in the first place.
"Same goes for you Picasso."
Light lets out a slightly hysterical giggle before catching himself and saying. "I refuse."
The pressure in the room rises, constricting oxygen and Light swears he saw the shadows move.
"Maa, Light I don't think you can refuse death." Ryuk mutters happily (he's probably enjoying this) into his ear and Light feels a spark of jealousy at how relaxed the Shinigami is. Does he know something he doesn't? That's likely the case.
A smidgen of hope rises within him. If there's one thing Light's certain about at this very moment is that Ryuk's selfish. He wouldn't let himself get killed, and he wouldn't let his only source of entertainment get killed.
One time. He'll put his faith in Ryuk just this once, because Light's also selfish – he's not naïve - and he won't give up his goal for a world without crime. This world needs him to reign as their God, whether they want it or not.
A snort comes from the shadows.
"Listen to the defector." Light's ears perk up. Defector? Ryuk's a defector? Shinigami can defect? From wha - are Shinigami an organization? "I'm not here to negotiate. I'm here to do my damn job which you." The katana swings back to him, pressing against the cut. Light grits his teeth with unease. Okay, this was bad. There is now a very high percentage of him not getting out of this alive. "Have made me detest."
Light winces at the genuine animosity being shoved in his direction.
Oh great. The guy hates him. There's little hope for negotiating now. The Shinigami was biased.
"This isn't exactly fair." He says thoughtlessly, wincing again when the katana presses forwards an inch. Warm blood trickles down his neck, making him feel ill at the mental image of it slashing his throat in any given second.
"Do you know what else isn't fair?" The God hisses, stepping towards him and coming into the murky light. Thankfully the weapon stays where it is and doesn't skewer him. "Doing overtime every. Single. Fucking. Night," Light doesn't flinch at the cruel scowl that could make little children cry, because he's far too fascinated by the fact that the Shinigami was still wearing his coffee stained shirt. Huh."For the past four months because you, don't understand the word 'enough'."
…'Enough'?
And then Light sags, energy leaving his body at seeing the clean rage on the Shinigami's face.
Directed at him.
He's angry at him for making him do overtime. For what? Reaping souls? So there is a Shinigami organization? No. Light leans his head against the door. He's too tired to dissect that.
He glances at the now silent Ryuk. All hope vanished.
Hope? He mentally snorts, apparently hope's for suckers.
There's no negotiating, there's no manipulating. He's going to die. Just like that. So quick. So final.
His eyes roll heavenwards. He's going up there? Does he even deserve that? If nothing else, Light is honest, with himself that is. And his ego isn't nearly big enough to convince himself that he's an all out 'good guy'.
He doesn't empathize, he lies, he cheats, he manipulates and since the end of last year, he's murdered. Becoming the self-proclaimed youngest serial killer in history. All in the name of good, because the world is rotting and he's the cure. He's purifying the world.
He was going to save people.
Something he'd originally thought impossible. How can a liar save people? By being a Policeman? Light's personally watched the dirtiest people get away with horrific crimes because their justice system is flawed. He's watched his father come home weary and defeated after cases being lost because some piece of evidence was 'not enough'. So many times he's watched that play out. Traumatized victims being accused for lying, being called trash and ending up so so alone.
And here the Shinigami was asking him, ironically, whether he understood what 'enough' means. He does, but he also understands what 'not enough' is.
"Do you accept your fate?"
"Does my opinion matter?"
"No."
The weight on his neck releases and out the corner of his eye he see's the katana glint in the moonlight as it rises. Is he going to slit his neck? What a messy way to die.
Stubbornly, Light forces himself to meet the Shinigami's gaze. It smiles, grinning viciously.
He hears the sword cut the air as it swings down with such ferocity Light barely has time to flinch when it descends upon him.
Within a blink, he's staring at a back.
What?
Light cranes his head around the new arrival and he can feel his eyes widen and mouth drop.
The man was holding the Shinigami's katana in-between his fingers like a pair of chopsticks.
"Change of plans." The man, most likely another Shinigami, says.
What?
And suddenly Light is hit by the fact that he isn't going to die. Also how incredibly beneficial it would be to have one of these Shinigami on his side. If one of them believed in his cause, L would be nothing but an empty corpse. The thought makes him smirk savagely.
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