Light Yagami was the God of the New World. So naturally, he had trouble trusting people.
His mom left. His sister left. So did the detectives. Matsuda. Now that he was a dictator, they wanted nothing to do with him.
As a child, he'd always kept to himself. But that didn't mean he was never lonely.
Ryuzaki didn't know him. Yet somehow, even from a prison cell, he knew exactly how to manipulate.
"You're in an unlikely place," Light murmured. "Imprisoned, yet asking for favors."
"Light, I just asked for some cheesecake."
" I'll consider it. Don't expect it."
Light Yagami's legs tightened. It took all of his focus to turn around, pick up the metal chair, and flee that awful room. He could feel L's black ink eyes boring into his back.
Light had to focus. He had to ignore it.
Click-click-click. He pulled the locks shut and left the prison room. Kira, Light, the God of the New World… He had to ignore the aching chills that were running through him.
One of the guards passed Light. He was a gruff individual with hair like a mangy dog.
"How did your meeting go, Kira?"
"Fine. Please leave L in solitary confinement for now."
Stay calm. Don't think. Light Yagami walked up the steps in a trance, breathing hard and raucously. But his mind was shrieking like a banshee.
N was his focus. N and Rem. So why was he so damn invested in Ryuzaki?
He was botching his own cause. He had to take a step back, and remember.
Ryuzaki was pathetic. He couldn't hurt Light Yagami anymore. He was sitting in a prison room.
A small section of Light's brain remembered Ryuzaki as a friend. He'd once watched him eat sweet after sweet with such an obsession, it wouldn't surprise him if L was diagnosed with diabetes.
Of course he needed sugar. Of course.
But Ryuzaki's arrogance beat at Light's brain. After all, Light was a God, not a child.
"I could've killed him!" Light growled. "I could've killed him! How dare he act so arrogant from a fucking prison cell-"
"Kill who?"
Light had reached the top of the staircase. Miss Takeda stood nearby, files in hand. Thick mascara lined her eyes and her voluptuous figure was covered with a white sweater.
"Oh, ah... Killed no one."
Shit! Light couldn't hold this in!
If he asked any of his advisors, they'd all tell him to kill L immediately. He should, because though L pretended to be justice, in actuality it was the opposite.
Kira was justice. L was a criminal. There was no question about what Light should do. Yet Light Yagami's gut was insistent on keeping Ryuzaki alive.
Light chatted with Takeda for a few minutes- mindless prattle about the decisions in South America and the Middle East. Then he managed to escape to his own room.
The walls were painted a sunny shade of yellow. There were two plush couches, facing each other. Each one was turned precisely, right between facing the other couch and facing a dark computer that sat on a desk in the corner. This computer desk, with the lack of any fireplaces or televisions, was certainly the centerpiece of the room.
Secure, intimate Skype meetings. Light's hackers ensured that. That was all the computer was for.
When his supporters set it up, they thought it was charming. But instead, in bed every night, Light was reminded of countless leaders with voices like broken glass who made him want to beat his head in.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
L listened as the man's footsteps echoed farther and farther away from his cell before he allowed his himself to close his tired black eyes. He tried to ignore his ever growing migraine as he struggled to get back to sleep. Yet he couldn't stop shaking...
L knew the effects would get worse. He being a sugar addict, had studied specifically the consequences for him to know if he was ever captured. Not like it helped him much in this situation.
L felt a trickle of a sweat stream down his forehead. Hey..was it always hot in here? The detective tried to solve the situation by throwing the covers off him. Yet, when he did so, he immediately felt a huge chill shiver across his body.
"Hm. The effects appear to be settling in faster than I calculated." he thought, placing his face deeper into the coolness of the pillow. He struggle to get to sleep, the waves of nausea sweeping over him.
For the next few days, Light was constantly distracted by the swarm of new follower into his building. It seemed like each one required his additional attention.
Additionally, three more countries fell. His New World was truly coming to be. It was glorious.
His assistants still tracked the strange N character, but there was no news. Considering they had sources all over the world, this was just unbelievable.
Someone had spotted Matsuda in France but it turned out to be a false lead. It was like he'd vanished off the face of the Earth.
Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.
Light Yagami stood in the computer room like a statue, gazing up at the sickly, skeleton-like figure on the screen. Ryuzaki was truly sick. Maybe it was sugar loss, or the guard's beating, or the loss of food. Either way, Ryuzaki's paling complexion and growing sickness was more than just an act.
Knock-knock. Mikami entered the tiny, closet-sized room, papers in hand. his glasses flashing.
"Hello, God. There's been some new updates in America-"
"Not now," Light interrupted. "There's something I have to take care of."
He took a deep breath and left the room with all the strength of a God.
Meanwhile L had just finally fallen asleep after hours of endless agony aching in his head. For the last few days he had grown weaker and weaker, along with his will to live. He longed for the days were he gazed over cities from his hotel room, content with knowing that they all had his protection. Now, he was a prisoner of a man who claims to bring justice, but only sheds blood throughout his path.
He dreamed of the days where he used to live at the orphanage, smiling children and teachers welcoming him with open arms. He dreamt of the times that he used to play with a very young Near, Mello, and Matt, breaking up fights between his top two successors, and even joining Matt in playing video games once in awhile.
His heart ached. L would do anything to go back to the days where he had no worries, back to the days of bliss and contentment.
Naturally, Light's chefs lived to serve him. So naturally, when he requested a smooth cheesecake and creamy smoothie, it appeared nearly immediately in his bedroom.
It was already nighttime, but he'd managed to avoid Mikami's ominous news. He'd taken a warm bath to calm himself while listening to everyone fall asleep.
Misa, Takeda, and numerous other Kira-supporters had offered to spend the night with him. Tonight, he wasn't in the mood. He'd rejected them all.
Pulling the ornate tray of food into his arms, he crept downstairs to the prison cell. To his delight, the night shift guards were too busy napping to even notice. No one should ever see a God serving food, but Light wasn't about to ask anyone to help him.
Carefully, so he didn't drop the tray, he unlatched the locks and pushed the prison door open. Gulping nervously, the God of the New World stepped into the room.
Here went nothing.
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