I CAN'T LIVE IN A WORLD WITHOUT LIGHT
CHAPTER VI:
I'LL SEE YOU ON THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON
Righteous judge of vengeance,
grant me the gift of absolution
before the day of retribution.
-Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Whoever succeeds in the great attempt
To be a friend of a friend,
Whoever has won a lovely woman,
Let him add his jubilation!
Yes, whoever calls even one soul
His own on the earth's globe!
And who never has, let him steal,
Weeping, away from this group.
-Ludwig van Beethoven
You know the sleeping feel no more pain
And the living all are scarred
-Megadeth
VICTORIAN ENGLAND
The year was 1892, the location was London, and the setting was a large, gothic mansion now encountering a type of mayhem it had never known during its lifetime. The thunder, lightning, and rain all concurred that tonight would be filled with the screams of vengeance, with the tearing of flesh, and with the spilling of blood from both innocent and guilty alike.
Doctor Light Yagami thought so anyway, as he and his wife the lady Misa Amane sought refuge in the uppermost top room of the Yagami estate. However, despite the enormous danger that he was already in, Doctor Yagami was aware that more than one thing was amiss. For one thing, he was never alive during 1892. For another, he was never a doctor. And lastly, despite his considerable wealth, he never owned a mansion, let alone a mansion as opulent as the one he was currently hiding in.
However, Doctor Yagami was only dimly aware of these anachronisms. If he had the time, he certainly would have given these matters much more thought, like why he was suddenly a British man with a Japanese name or why he was suddenly wearing a black wool frock coat and highland pants instead of his usual suit and tie. Alas, it is quite difficult to focus on the complexities that space and time have to offer when there is a monster downstairs who is trying to find and slaughter you.
Which was exactly what was happening.
Confound my accursed egotism! Light thought with only a small portion of himself wondering why he was thinking with such an outdated mode of speech, Damn it all to Hell! This is what I get for trying to create life! This is what I get for trying to play God! What in the name of King William the IV was I thinking? How could I have expected any good to come out of this heresy?
Doctor Light and Lady Misa cringed when a constable from downstairs unearthed a scream not meant for human ears. It was only hours ago that Chief Constable Soichiro Yagami told his son with the utmost confidence that London's finest would be more than enough for the marauding monstrosity that was plaguing his son. And for a moment, Doctor Yagami actually believed his father if only because the doctor's esteemed colleague and rival Detective Lawliet Lawson and his good friend Doctor Quillish Wammy (those were strange names for Englishmen, but then again Lawson and Wammy had always been eccentrics). Moreover, the constables were all proficient (except for Matsuda) and several luminaries were among their numbers. Constable Shuichi Aizawa was well known and admired for his role in apprehending the invisible and nameless maniac who had terrorized the English countryside for months. Constable Kanzo Mogi had actually managed to hold his own (as the proletariat were wont to call it) against Professor James Moriarty, the Napoleon of Crime, before Detective Lawson stepped in to arrest his foe. Hideki Ide had once been part of the team that uncovered the identity of the notorious Jack the Ripper; for whatever reason, the true name of the serial killer was never released to the public and Ide never mentioned his role in the matter. If you were to ask Ide about how he caught "Leather Apron", he would just give you a sad, lost look and then walk away. Thankfully, however, this did not obtrude his policing skills.
As for Matsuda... well, Chief Yagami had promised Matsuda weeks earlier that he wouldn't leave him out of the next assignment. Of course, Chief Yagami had no idea at the time that said assignment entailed the presence of a monster that wanted to impale Doctor Yagami with the severed leg of a chair.
It was then a grim realization on Doctor Yagami's part that not even King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table could have stood a chance against the invading monster. This realization came instantly after the monster burst through the heavy, dense oak front doors, grabbed Detective Lawson's head with one massive hand, and then crushed it as easily as one could crush a grape. Unlike a grape, blood and brain matter all oozed through the gaps between the monster's fingers. Matsuda responded to this rather unsightly scene by vomiting, and the rest of the men started opening fire on the monster.
Doctor Yagami did not know whether any of the bullets struck the monster that he created, for he was already fleeing from the main chambers the moment he saw Lawson's head become crushed. If the monster had the power to kill someone as skilled as Lawson, then the doctor doubted that any of them could take down his creation. However, he did manage to see, out of the corner of his eyes, several constables being thrown across the rooms as if they weighed no more than rag dolls. Doctor Yagami made a futile attempt to deny what his eyes were telling him, that his luxurious estate was currently in the process of being redecorated with severed skin and buckets of blood. The one thing he tried not to see, not even out of the corner of his eyes, was the monster itself. Doctor Yagami knew that it was sheer foolishness, but Doctor Yagami did his best to believe in the delusion that if he did not look at the monster, then the monster would not see him. This delusion was somewhat crushed as the monster had tried throwing Lawson's mangled head at him. Thankfully, it only struck the wall besides the doctor, but he briefly glanced at the detective's remaining eye, and he knew with no doubt or hesitation whatsoever that the monster would not rest until it had done far worse to him.
"FATHER!" the monster screamed in fury, causing the entire house to shake.
Light ran up a crescent stairway, barged through a heavy, wooden chamber door, and then proceeded to dash down the main hallway. The hallway was luxuriously decorated, a lifetime of collected works that were majestic, yet of a most daunting disposition. However, Dr. Yagami, in his frantic enterprise to elude the monster, failed to notice the artworks' reactions to him. He did not see the portrait of a drowned yet beautiful Othelia floating down a stream who stared at him with bale, accusing eyes. He did not observe his prized bust sculpture of Julius Caesar laughing at him mockingly. With Dr. Yagami now closer to his final destination, he did not observe a painting of an unholy wasteland, nor the mournful glances that two forced exiles gave him. Now right at the door of the room he needed to enter, he did not know that a portrait of a woman once asleep, a demon, and a black horse watched his movements, eager to see how this nightmare would play out.
Light briefly glimpsed out the window and saw the moon, but continued fleeing, sure that he had not seen anything that was crucial enough to force him to stop. Had Light looked closer, he would have noticed that the moon was somehow, someway, in a manner that defied all astrophysics, set on fire. The entire surface of the moon was encircled in this blaze, making it appear to be a cross between the natural satellite and its counterpart, the sun.
The moon is so beautiful.
Dr. Yagami flung open a tall, black iron door (Dr. Yagami did not have time to appreciate the engravings that he had personally made of Lucifer and his army constructing the capital of Pandemonium, one of the doctor's favorite scenes from Paradise Lost), and quickly shut it behind him. The doctor closed his eyes then and allowed himself to catch his breath before making his next move.
It's a big silver dollar, flipped by God.
Despite the havoc being wrought on his manor, Dr. Yagami still had more than one ace up his sleeve. For this was his master study, and because this was the room where he spent most of his time, he knew each and every single contour of the quarters. He knew the titles of all the books that occupied the two protracted bookcases set against the left and right walls. He had memorized all the chemicals and medical instruments of his that he kept inside a moderately sized cabinet, and he was also aware of where each one was situated.
And it landed scarred side up, see?
However, despite these impressive and engrossing possessions, it was his bay window that utterly dominated the study's decor. It was also the asset that Dr. Yagami was most proud of, for he too had crafted this on his own, for it was his ingenious idea to capture the immortal image of Jacob wrestling with God upon the mountain. The coloring was exquisite, the construction was meticulous, and Light always found the characteristics of his two main players to be invigorating yet soothing.
So He made the world.
Nevertheless, Dr. Yagami's desk, placed in the middle of the study, was of the most interest to him at the present. It was a fine desk, constructed out of sturdy oak, and wide enough to let the doctor study several materials at once. However, as marvelous as the desk was, it placed a focal point in Dr. Yagami's stratagem for reasons other than mere aesthetics.
Light had suspected that the constables would fail in their attempt to vanquish his creation, so he had planned in advance, creating a fail safe that he was sure would bring down the monster once and for all. All that the doctor needed for this was contained inside the desk, and once the monster came up here, the tactics would be carried out, and the monster would be no more.
Light opened his eyes, saw the image of his wife, and knew that his strategy was in grave jeopardy.
"Misa, what in the name of God are you doing here?" Light screamed, marching over to the Lady Misa, "I told you to leave hours ago! Why are you not with your mother and father? Why have you defied my instructions?"
"Forgive me, Light!" Lady Misa cried as Doctor Yagami approached her with a most pernicious gleam in his eye. Light wanted to strike her for her insolence, but his wife's helpless look (and red Lucille walking suit) gave her a cripplingly innocent and delectable look, "But I could not leave you! I love you too much!"
"'At the end of four years, Absalom said to the king, "Let me go to Hebron and fulfill a vow I made to the Lord,'" A strong voice said from down the hall, "'While your servant was living at Geshur in Aram, I made this vow: 'If the Lord takes me back to Jerusalem, I will worship the Lord in Hebron'".
"You bloody idiot!" Dr. Yagami yelled, "Everything would have gone perfectly if you had done as I had commanded you to! And you dare use love as an excuse for your own insolence?"
"But it's not just that, my dear husband!" Lady Misa pleaded, "This is all my fault! The monster would not have followed you here if it wasn't for me!"
"'And he said, Take now thy son, thine only son ,Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Mori'ah'" the thick, graveled voice said, closer now, "'and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of.'"
"What the devil-" Dr. Yagami started.
"I found the monster!" Lady Misa confessed as her tears began to rivulet, "I found him, and I took pity on him! He was as helpless, as unintelligent as a baby! Whenever I told you that I would spend the evening with my friends, I brought the monster food and clothes! I began to love him like a son!"
"'Cronus, take heed of your son'!" the voice hollered, now even louder, its volume causing the walls to tremble, "'Know that you have birthed your own end, your own death! Curse the day that you took to bed with your wife and sister, Rhea!'"
"The books of yours that I said I wanted to read," Lady Misa continued while Dr. Yagami stared at her with horror-stricken eyes, "that was a lie! I gave them to him! All of them! Aristotle, Byron, Scipio, Musashi, Blake, and everything else! I even gave him copies of all the poems, all the essays, and all the theories that you have written over the years! And the more he read them, the more he came to know you, the more he became like you! But something has changed, Light, something about him has turned warped and cruel! I tried to tell you this before, but I was so scared, so ashamed! And now we shall meet our Maker before the night is through!"
And then the monster burst through the room. Lady Misa screeched, and Dr. Yagami did the best he could to shield her from the flying debris.
When Dr. Yagami and Lady Misa finally turned to look at the monster, it stood before them proud and majestic, a beast convinced that it was a god. Despite its most grotesque appearance, there was still something savagely dignified about him. It stood at more than seven feet, its weight and muscle mass somewhere in the four hundreds, its body thicker than a redwood tree. Its only clothing was a black coat, horribly mangled and splattered with blood. His structure was a map gone horribly awry, adorned with stitches and scars.
Ironically, his hair and face were beautiful. The hair itself was raven black, and it flowed smoothly down his shoulders. Moreover, his face, despite the scars, held a certain, quiet dignity that somehow coexisted with a gleefully demonic countenance.
But it was the eyes that entranced Dr. Yagami and Lady Misa the most. They could not have been human eyes, for they glowed with a red effulgence, for they glowed with sweet promises of lakes of fire, of chains and whips, of eternal damnation.
I'm surprised you didn't come here sooner.
It's not an easy thing to meet your maker.
What could he do for you?
Can the maker repair what he makes?
"It has been far, far too long, father," Mikami snickered, "You have no idea how long I-"
"Misa! Get behind the desk!" Light abruptly shouted. Misa instantly ducked behind the desk, and Light digging into his pockets, threw several smoke grenades at Mikami. Mikami roared in irritation, but Light continued his assault. Slamming his fist on the desk, Light pressed in a panel, and he could hear the humming and whirling of the machinery inside the desk. A new, longer panel opened, and a rifle was ejected from the desk's springs. Light quickly caught it and wasted no time at firing at Mikami, while the latter stumbled about in a thick miasma. Thankfully, Light could see Mikami's huge, dark outline, and aimed expertly at that.
"BACK TO THE DEPTHS FROM WHICH YE CAME, ABOMINATION!" Light screamed while firing, "BACK WITH YOU TO HELL, BACK WITH YOU TO THE DRAGON! GO AND TELL THE DEVIL THAT LIGHT YAGAMI SENT YOU THERE!"
Light continued firing his rifle even after all the ammo had been spent and all the sound he heard was a few clicks. Light waited, holding his breath in suspense, to see if his trick had worked or not. He could see that Mikami was still standing, but that didn't necessarily mean that Mikami wasn't in the process of dying. All Light could do now was wait for the smoke to dissipate and see.
The smoke did just that, and Light was crushed (but not surprised) to see that Mikami was still standing, still as domineering and looming as ever. Mikami had evidently been hit by several bullets, but they seemed to have little effect on him, if any. Instead, Mikami grinned even wider than before.
Why are you frightened, Father? The prodigal son has returned.
"Now, now, father," Mikami sneered, "is that any way to treat your estranged son?"
Mikami took a step forward, and Light automatically took a step back, now thoroughly frightened beyond his wildest dreams.
"A savage place", Mikami said, "as holy and enchanted as ever beneath a waning moon was haunted-"
Without warning, Misa got up from behind the desk and ran towards the monster. "Misa! No!", Light cried out, though he had no idea what she had planned. Misa was never the most courageous of women (she was always the one who had to "excuse herself" during performances of Goethe's Faust), but she approached Mikami with no hesitation or reserve.
"Mikami, please!" Misa implored the domineering giant, "By the love I have shown for you, stop this campaign of malice! This will benefit no one! It-"
Misa was interrupted when Mikami, with a simple swing of his enormous hand, slapped Misa. The impact sent Misa sailing into the bookcase of the other side of the room. She fell unconscious immediately afterwards.
"By woman wailing for her demon-lover", Mikami finished.
Mikami turned to look at Light. "And his dark secret love does thy life destroy", Mikami sneered.
"Goddamn you!" Light screamed, puling out his spare pistol and firing erratically at Mikami. The monster made no effort to dodge the bullets, but rather moved towards his maker. When at last the chamber was emptied, Light dropped the now useless pistol, grabbed a nearby fire poker, and charged at Mikami with it. Light swung the poker at Mikami, but the monster simply and easily grabbed the poker, twisted it with one hand, and then flung it across the room.
"Did He who made the lamb make thee?" Mikami wondered before clutching Light's throat with one gargantuan hand. Light struggled with panicked terror as the hand closed around his throat, but he was able to do less so when Mikami lifted him up as effortlessly as a man might lift a doll. Though aware that it was likely futile, Light did his best to reason with Mikami.
"You're angry. I understand that!", Light croaked out, "And I'm sorry. But I can fix you! I can make you look like a normal human being! You kill me, and you lose all hope of ever becoming-"
"Human?" Mikami finished for him. "Oh, father, I have become more human than you can possibly imagine", Mikami snickered. "In fact, I think I may have even become more human than human."
"You're insane!" Light said, thrashing about.
"Insane? No, I'm afraid you're wrong there," Mikami smirked, "I'm completely and utterly aware of what I'm doing, and I fully comprehend the consequences. If that isn't sanity, then what is? Cowardly obeying the status quo? Living your life out without striving to make any substantial changes, let alone not making any improvements whatsoever? In that case, you would be deranged, my dear creator!"
Light's vision started to fade as his brain was deprived of oxygen.
"But you and I, we both know the truth," Mikami continued, still sporting his shark grin, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree as they say. It was your sanity that led you to create me. And why? Because this whole world is mad! The evidence is irrefutable! We know that the government lies to us! We know that the banks cheat us! We know that there is enough food on this planet to amply feed all people, yet starvation is common in several countries! It makes no sense, yet they go along with it all! They've deluded themselves into thinking that they and they're world are sane! But not you. You knew all along that this world was a Sodom waiting to happen! And so you took action to save the world!"
"In...insane," Light whispered, feeling very weak and tired.
"And in a way you did," Mikami said, his eyes dancing with glee, "For you have given birth to me, and believe me, I will finish what you started. So thank you, father, for giving me the invaluable opportunity to give Earth the god that it truly deserves."
"He's right, you know," a new voice said. Light looked to Mikami's left, and there stood Death. This was a very specific incarnation of Death; it was the version played by Bengt Ekerot in Light's favorite movie, The Seventh Seal. Death appeared as he did in what Light considered to be Ingmar Bergman's magnum opus: Tall, clad in a black cloak and hood, with a face that was both white and garish and that contained a small, wry smile.
"You... you're not-" Light choked out.
"Supposed to be here?" Death laughed, "My dear boy, this is a dream! If you have a problem with a character from a movie set in medieval Sweden appearing in a dream set in Victorian England, well then you must blame your subconscious, not I!
Mikami either didn't notice that Death was present, or he chose to ignore him. In either case, Mikami kept choking Light as he had done before.
"You're probably wondering why you haven't died yet," Death commented. "Mikami will kill you eventually. But not like this. You know as well as I do that Mikami is no hulking giant. You know that when you die, it won't be because his hands are clasped around your crushed throat," Death's smile became larger. "The way he will kill you will undoubtedly be much, much worse."
"N-no," was all Light could weakly protest.
"It's a shame that we don't have time to play chess," Death said, "I hear you're quite the genius when it comes to strategy and tactics."
Death snickered and then walked behind Mikami. Another man exited from Mikami's right side.
And when Light Yagami saw who this man was, he forgot his agony and stared in shock at someone he never thought would have been able to invade the sanctity of his dreams.
It was an old, pale, white man, also clad in a black coat and hood, but this time with red fringes. He took a look at Light with cold, gray blue eyes, and Light could see that there was no compassion in those eyes, only a harsh sense of purpose, only a terse sense of righteousness and dignity.
"So am I," John "Jigsaw" Kramer said.
Go home. Forget this thing. I can recognize an obsession, and no good will come of it.
Why, haven't good come of your obsessions?
Well at first. But I followed them too long. I'm their slave... and one day they'll choose to destroy me.
"NO!" Light screamed with what energy he had left, "NO NO NO NO! MIKAMI KILLED YOU! KILLED YOU! I KNOW HE DID!"
"Of course he did," Jigsaw agreed solemnly, "Mikami would have done anything that you asked of him. That's what a dog does, you know. But even a dog has its limits. You kick a dog hard enough and long enough, and it'll fear you like nothing else will. However, after a while, the dog will begin to remember that it has teeth. It will realize that all the pain and suffering has made it even angrier and wrathful than its owner. And eventually, that dog will bite back."
Jigsaw examined Light for a moment, and then sighed.
"What a disappointment," Jigsaw murmured, "You two could have learned so much from me, and I could have learned so much from you two. I could have become your teacher, and you could have become my disciples. Together, we three could have been unstoppable."
"I would... never... bow to a... murderer like... you," Light gasped.
"A murderer?" Jigsaw asked, looking quietly amused. "Oh, Light, your narcissism knows no bounds, does it? I never murdered a soul in my life. I just made people realize the value of life. You, on the other hand," Jigsaw's face suddenly became much more sober and harsh, "you never even gave them a chance, did you? And you didn't even have the courage to do any of the dirty work yourself. You just hid behind a notebook and a pen while you destroyed the very world you professed to recreate. Pathetic."
Jigsaw walked over to Misa and inspected her with a mixture of pity and of indifferent curiosity. "I know that I'm just wasting my breath," Jigsaw said, not looking at Mikami or Light, "Nothing I do or say will convince you that have erred greatly. That will be Mikami's role, and it will not be what he says that will change everything, but what he will do."
Jigsaw took down his hood, and walked back to his original position. He looked much older this way, yet there was an unmistakable, undeniable sense of strength that emanated from him. If Light wasn't being held in the air by Mikami, he probably would have been intimidated by Jigsaw's austere disposition.
"You know your Joseph Campbell, don't you? Of course, you do," Jigsaw went on without waiting for Light's answer, "An interdisciplinary major like yourself would have to be aware of the universal father of mythology."
"Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors where there were only walls," Mikami snickered.
"Indeed," Jigsaw concurred, "You have followed your bliss. And now it is your son's turn. To be a hero, one must follow their bliss. It is the only way that they will be of any true use."
Jigsaw paused, as if internally debating an issue with himself. When he regarded Light again, he continued, "I don't think this pain or any of the other pain that will follow is going to be what hurts you most. I could be wrong, and I freely admit that, but what will probably hurt you the most is when I tell you right now that you are not the hero of this story."
"Not... a... story..." Light whispered, his eyes becoming glazed.
"Everything is a story," Jigsaw replied, "Life is a macrocosm story, and each and every individual life is a microcosm story. But not all stories have to have a hero. Yours certainly doesn't."
Mikami tightened his grip around Light's throat. "I met my maker," Mikami said, "now it's your turn."
"If anything, take solace in this, my son," Jigsaw said, "The story of the hero cannot end until the hero has found his father."
"And I finally have," Mikami said.
Mikami lowered Light, but began to drag him closer and closer to the bay window. And the nearer that Light got to the bay window, the better of an idea he had of what his son intended to do with him. Even so, Light made one last attempt to reason with Mikami.
"Teru," Light said weakly, "Don't... do this... I... we... together we can..."
Luke, you can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this. It is your destiny. Join me, and together we can rule the galaxy as father and son.
Mikami came to rest at the bay window. "Tell me father," Teru said, "We all know that your name is a kanji that means 'night'. So how is it then that one can find light in the darkness?"
"Wha... what?" Light asked.
"Figure it out yourself," Mikami said before he threw Light through the bay window.
As Light fell, his body shattered through the image of the angel, but the image of Jacob was left untouched. Shards of glass sliced most of Light's body, and while his brain's electrical signals told him that he was experiencing pain, Light could only dimly sense it. Only a minute amount of attention was paid to the unique sensation of having his flesh cut into ribbons. Everything else was devoted to the radiant, burning eyes of Mikami. And as Light fell, he felt neither afraid nor humiliated as he thought he would. For once, for once in his life, he simply didn't care. Didn't care about himself, didn't care about the Death Note, didn't care about the world, and it was the most comforting feeling he had ever known.
Sometimes... sometimes I think the asylum is a head.
As Light's tired and weary eyes looked for a final time at Kira, he had to admit that his protégé looked very much like a real god would. A god of wrath. A god of fury. A god of justice.
We're inside a huge head that dreams us all into being.
A god that the world needed now more than ever.
Perhaps it's your head.
"And your soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted nevermore," Kira whispered.
Arkham is a looking glass.
Light kept his eyes focused on Kira until the juggernaut became an ant, before the flaming furnace eyes became a dying amber, and before all the light was finally, mercifully devoured by the darkness.
And we are you.
And then Light woke up.
Perspiring profusely, Light was grateful that he woke up without making much noise even if he did awaken with a start. Though breathing heavily, Light kept it as inaudible as he could. Misa was right beside him, sound asleep in their bed, and Light did not want to wake her. If he did, then she would try to comfort him with cuddles and kisses, and that was the last thing he needed right now.
Light placed his hands in his face and softly sighed. What the hell was that dream about? It didn't make any sense when correlated with any recent events he had gone through. He hadn't read Frankenstein in years, and he had only read one Victorian poem in the past few months (Armies in the Fire by Robert Louis Stevenson as he recalled). Yes, Light had recently rewatched the "final cut" of Blade Runner with Misa (who fell asleep some twenty minutes into the film), but even then the math didn't add up. Blade Runner was a cyberpunk movie, and its only connection to British literature was the paraphrasing of a William Blake poem. As for Goethe's Faust, well, that wasn't even an English story (Christopher Marlowe's The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus notwithstanding).
My heart's so hard'ned I cannot repent. Scarce can I name salvation, faith, or heaven, but fearful echoes thunder in mine ears, 'Faustus, thou art damn'd'!
There was the son meets father motif to think about. Both Frankenstein and Blade Runner conveyed this archetype, but Light couldn't see how it applied to him. For one thing, Light already knew his father and was in continual contact with him. He did not need to go "seek" his father as the Campbell saying went. In fact, despite their distance, Light probably knew Soichiro Yagami better than Soichiro knew himself. Light had no desire to eliminate anyone from the KTU, especially his father, whom he respected to some degree (However, Light did not revere his father. Light found it difficult to venerate a father whose pride blinded him to the truth that his son was more than capable of eliminating criminals). Besides, there was no enmity nor tension between Light and Soichiro, so it made no sense that his dream contained this filial theme.
As for Mikami... Well, that was just ridiculous. Mikami, a massive homunculus wreaking havoc and claiming vengeance against his so-called creator? Preposterous! That was the stuff of cheap Roger Corman and Vincent Price movies; it had no bearing on Light's life. Just the idea of Mikami slightly defying his god was about as feasible as the idea of Misa collaborating with his acolyte. Besides, after that day's little encounter, Light was positive that he had scared any and all thoughts of sedition from Mikami's mind.
Treachery was then, in a word, impossible.
Light went into the kitchen, made himself some chamomile tea, spiked it with just a pinch of brandy, and drank it while sitting on his couch and picking up from where he last left off on The Cabaret of Doctor Caligari. Afterwards, he went back to bed.
Before he got back into bed, however, Light examined Misa. She was still sleeping heavily, and Light had to admit that she looked helpless and (Light sighed irritably) adorable this way. Misa was a declawed kitten, and it was Light who had taken out her claws.
So then... was she capable of treachery?
"Impossible," Light muttered, a little upset with himself for giving credence to such an absurd notion, "I must be working too hard."
Light crept into bed, and reluctantly moved closer to Misa's warm body. Light reminded himself that he held no affection for this simpleton; he just wanted a little warmth, that was all. Neither love nor compassion had anything to do with it. Sometimes, just sometimes, it was nice to be near someone like this.
Light closed his eyes and prepared to fall asleep.
He had trouble sleeping for the rest of the night.
What you lookin' at? You all a bunch of fuckin' assholes. You know why? You don't have the guts to be what you wanna be! You need people like me. You need people like me so you can point your fuckin' fingers and say, "That's the bad guy." So... what that make you? Good? You're not good. You just know how to hide, how to lie. Me, I don't have that problem. Me, I always tell the truth. Even when I lie. So say good night to the bad guy!
FIVE DAYS LATER
It was still raining. It had been raining that entire week, and Mikami briefly entertained the notion that the weather was deliberately imitating his recent depression. However, whatever the reason for these persistently stormy conditions, it didn't exactly help improve Mikami's mood. Because of the rain, he was cooped up in his apartment all the time, and the only consolation in this was that he didn't need to walk through the rain in order to go to work, as he could perform his duties right there in his home. Still, because he hadn't been able to go outside to distract himself, and because of that he had been unable to get a most pressing issue out of his mind. Mikami had done everything he could to divert his attention. He had busied himself with "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?". He had watched Lars Von Trier's "Antichrist," and admitted that it was actually quite good despite the more... grisly moments. He had listened to Carl Orff, he had lifted weights, he had sketched his own version of the Egyptian god Horus, and he even briefly tried out Ryuk's Gameboy (the operative word being "briefly").
Mikami stood at his window, arms folded, looking out upon the city. He grimaced; there was no getting around it. No matter what he did, the subject would just not leave him alone. Even when he was largely engrossed in his work, it was still there, humming about like a pestering fly, refusing to leave him be.
Mikami needed to talk with somebody. That would probably make him feel better. He would probably be able to take off some of that weight off his shoulders if he just opened up to someone.
He would probably be able to take action.
And Mikami knew just who to turn to.
"Goddamn you, Kirby!" Ryuk shouted, while playing with his Gameboy, "Kill that fucking penguin! Kill!"
"Ryuk, why don't you turn that off for a moment," Mikami said, rather than asked.
"Yeah, I'll do it in just a second," Ryuk replied with no intention of doing it in a second.
"I have a better idea, Ryuk," Mikami said humorlessly, "Why don't you turn that infernal mechanism off before I throw it into the fireplace?"
Ryuk grumbled but did as he was told. "So what the hell do you want?" Ryuk asked, annoyed.
"Kira was wrong," Mikami said, going back to staring out the window.
There was a pregnant pause.
"Huh," Ryuk said at last. "You're like the last person I would ever expect to hear say something like that."
"I know," Mikami replied, "I thought the same thing too. I never thought I would renounce Kira, let alone doubt him. But that's what happened, and now I have a rather daunting problem on my hands."
"Yeah..." Ryuk drawled, not really knowing how to respond to this and not wanting to become involved in Mikami's existentialist crisis. "Well, if that's all, I'll just-"
"I didn't want to admit it, you know," Mikami interrupted while Ryuk silently cursed his rotten luck. "I tried to come up with all of the valid excuses I could in order to justify Kira's order to eliminate Kramer. I was only able to come up with a few of those, and upon a second reading, it was all but impossible to deny that they were tenuous and vacuous at best."
"Uh-huh," Ryuk said warily. Where the hell was four eyes going with this?
"I took everything that Kramer and I did in terms of eliminating, and then I took a look at both of our histories", Mikami said, "and then compared it to Kira's methods of elimination as well as his modus operandi. And do you know what I discovered, Ryuk?"
"I give. What?" Ryuk asked.
Mikami briefly glanced at Ryuk, and Ryuk noticed that Mikami's Shinigami eyes were burning red. Ryuk drew his eyes elsewhere; for some reason, it just wasn't right for a guy like Mikami to have those kind of eyes.
"Together, Kramer and I were far more effective at what we did than Kira ever was," Mikami said.
Despite his reluctance, Ryuk now stared at Mikami who had gone back to looking out the window. This was a rebellious side of Mikami that Ryuk had never seen before, and he wanted to see where it would lead, scary eyes notwithstanding.
"Can you imagine, Ryuk?" Mikami asked. "Can you imagine what Kramer and I could have accomplished? Can you imagine what we could have done to improve this wretched world? We could have done so much, if it wasn't... if it wasn't for him!"
Ryuk said nothing, but watched with interest while Mikami spat out that last syllable with venom.
"So now, I have a problem," Mikami said. "I could keep eliminating filth for Kira, whom I now know is fallible and inferior. Truth be told, I don't like that option much."
Mikami turned to Ryuk with his burning eyes, and Ryuk, though afraid, nearly chuckled at what he saw. Mikami's aura was better than ever; it surrounded all of him and covered more than a few inches of his body. It was now no longer simply red; now it was completely crimson. Mikami was back, and he was better than ever.
"Or I could do something about all this," Mikami said, "and I like that option much, much more."
"Yeah?" Ryuk asked. "And what are you gonna do about it?"
"First, let's start with what you're going to do, Ryuk," Mikami said, "and why don't we start with you telling me everything you know about Kira?"
Ryuk's eyes gleamed.
You feel you now have control, don't you? You think you will walk away untested. I promise that my work will continue. That I have ensured. By hearing this tape, some will assume that this is over, but I am still among you. You think it's over just because I am dead. It's not over. The games have just begun.
WORKS CITED:
Blade Runner (Novel/Movie)
The Empire Strikes Back (Movie)
The Prestige (Novel/Movie)
Arkham Asylum: A Serious House On Serious Earth (Graphic Novel)
The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus (Novel)
Scarface (Movie)
Saw IV (Movie)
