Disclaimer: Do not own the Death Note series.

9 – The Hermit

Ryuzaki had begun to peer at Light strangely.

It was noticeable to Light because it was an expression he seldom received from him. It was not only the detective. When they thought he wasn't paying attention, he witnessed confused looks from the rest of the team. This had been going on for the last three days.

There was a reason for their bewilderment. Light had become quiet, withdrawn. It had started immediately following the vacation day. When everyone returned to work they were met with this new, different Light. One who would answer, briefly, when addressed. Otherwise, he was silent. No one knew what to make of it. Furthermore, Light's aloofness and detachment did not invite questioning. It was a marked departure from his normal bearing and, consequently, unsettling.

Light did observe their reactions. It wasn't that he was oblivious. It was more that it was of secondary importance to what he was undergoing. In the past, he would have made the effort to act like 'himself'. Being the object of worry and speculation was not something he cultivated. However, Light could not find it in himself to truly care. He was unconcerned with how he came across.

It was jarring.

Light had always invested a great deal in the manufactured image he presented to others. It was a portrayal, a caricature, so seamless that he had believed it was who he really was. He was Yagami Light; an intelligent, polite, talented, and earnest young man. That was how everyone saw him. It was what Light let them see. There had only been one exception. Ryuzaki saw and was allowed to see things in Light that no one else did.

At present, he and Ryuzaki were eating dinner. It was early in the evening. Soichiro, Matsuda, and Aizawa were still in the operations room. Half an hour ago, Light determined that he did not have the mental focus to continue working. Without a word of explanation, he had gone over to the detective and pulled him to his feet. No one said anything as they watched them leave. Light's hand had been on the small of Ryuzaki's back the whole time, firmly propelling him forward.

His dad and the others were still toiling on the Kira case while Light was absent. It should have galled him. It should have made him feel guilty. Here he was, taking it easy, while a mass murderer ran free and unobstructed.

'I have been working on the case. Just not as much as I usually do. What's changed?'

If he had to identify a starting point, he supposed it would have been the day he told Ryuzaki how he felt. Or maybe it was what he realized about himself in the process. Light had seen a vision of who he had been and a possibility of the person he could become. He acknowledged that he had been lonely and unhappy for most of his life. It should have ended there, but had not. Since then, it dominated his thoughts. He was being forced to concede that, maybe, he did not yet have full comprehension. It was possible there was more than one level to truly understanding the issue.

He reasoned that he had reached the first and second level. Light had chosen to categorize it in this manner. It was the only way to make sense of it.

'I know what it is, that's the first part. And I know where it will lead to. That's the second part. What else is there?'

It was apparent the matter was more complex. And much, much deeper.

It was mystifying. It was also something he felt very reluctant to explore. It reminded him of that night, many weeks ago. Ryuzaki's indifference and passivity had brought Light to a breaking point. It caused the pain in his chest to strike with an unprecedented intensity. He had, in the end, declined to examine the roots of that wound. He backed off because he was unprepared. It was too soon.

Now, he was divided. On one hand, he didn't want to know. On the other, he did. It was impossible to reconcile these two opposing viewpoints. The struggle occupied him, causing him to be silent and remote. He didn't know what to do despite thinking on it continuously.

Maybe it was an idea to break down the information he did have. That was what he had already been doing, but if he organized it into more concise sections; he could extract…

Light sighed.

'Enough.'

He stood and walked around the table to Ryuzaki. He decided the dishes could wait until the morning. Light took his arm, tugging him to his feet. They were almost out the door when the detective stopped. Light regarded him quizzically.

"I would like some coffee," Ryuzaki explained.

Light just stared mutely. The detective reached and caught his wrist. He pulled Light's hand off his arm and continued speaking.

"Will Light-kun make it for me? I want dessert too."

He still held his wrist. Light started, realizing an answer was expected.

"Sure. I can do that."

Ten minutes later, they were back at the table. Light sipped his coffee and watched Ryuzaki enjoying his cookies. It would seem he had only wanted his sweet fix. There was no other motive.

Ryuzaki stopped eating and looked at him with piercing eyes.

Or maybe there was.

"Light-kun, I would like to clarify something with you."

Light felt his heart speed up. He had been expecting something like this. It was the other question that loomed in his mind. In the interim following his…confession to Ryuzaki, he had been waiting. Ready for him to say he did or did not feel the same way. It could be the moment had arrived. Light could hear the tension in his own voice when he asked:

"What is it?"

Ryuzaki picked up his coffee and placed it on his knees, like a shield. He also tightened his legs even further to his chest.

'Not a good sign.'

Ryuzaki started hesitantly.

"It is about…"

He faltered as if searching for words. Light felt the anxiety in his chest. He crossed his arms, like a shield. He also sat back in his chair, further increasing the distance between them. It took considerable strength to speak calmly.

"About what?"

At his prompt, Ryuzaki continued in a quiet, clear voice.

"In the past three days, Light-kun has stopped speaking to me. I would assume that means he does not wish to interact..."

"That's not true!" Light interrupted.

Ryuzaki ignored him in favor of finishing his sentence.

"…except he is always touching me. Why?"

That was not what Light had been anticipating. His confusion was mirrored in his response.

"I don't know."

"If you want to leave the kitchen, why do you not inform me?"

"I…I don't know."

"Why do you take my arm and pull me? Or put your arm around me to direct where I walk?"

Light, unfamiliar with such bluntness, was off-balance. Nevertheless, he quickly rallied.

"I told you before. Because I want to."

"Yes. However, that is not my question."

Light was perplexed.

"Are you saying you don't want me to?"

It was Ryuzaki's turn to be off-balance.

"I…am not sure," he said slowly.

"It bothers you?"

"…I don't know."

Either he was playing a game by mimicking Light's answers or he was genuinely uncertain. Light put his arms on the table and learned forward.

"When people like someone they tend to touch them. I wasn't lying when I said I was attracted to you. But, if you say you don't want me to, I won't," he said in a neutral voice.

Ryuzaki broke eye contact to look down. Light could see the reddening in his cheeks. As the silence stretched, he resisted the urge to speak again. The only visible sign of Light's stress was his whitened knuckles, caused from the pressure of pressing his fingers into the table. Finally, Ryuzaki responded.

"Light-kun misunderstands me. I comprehend his actions."

Light's hands relaxed.

"Then…"

He thought furiously.

"…you're asking why I do that but don't say anything?"

"Yes."

Light considered this. In truth, until now, he had not realized he was acting that way. It warranted examination. However, he was unwilling to explore his motivations with Ryuzaki. He was also averse to saying; "I don't know" yet again. What he preferred was to not answer at all. Light calculated a way to get out of this uncomfortable dilemma.

"You did the same thing. You stopped talking."

The detective's eyes whipped up.

"Yes."

"Care to elaborate?"

Wariness and irritation warred in Ryuzaki's countenance. Irritation won.

"No," he snapped.

Light's eyes narrowed.

"Well, neither do I."

Ryuzaki looked away. He turned so he was sitting sideways, effectively cutting off and dismissing Light.

After a brief internal struggle, Light rose and approached him. When he put his hand on Ryuzaki's back, he was met with tense resistance. He remained in his seat but edged away. He was standing slightly behind the detective and could not see his expression. Which was probably a good thing.

This was leaving a very sour taste in Light's mouth. It was not his aim to create a hostile environment between them. He needed to say or do something to restore equanimity. No, he needed to say and do something. That had proven, time and again, to be the winning combination.

He began running his hand up and down Ryuzaki's back: a soft motion designed to pacify. He did not pull away, likely because he was already hunched forward as far as possible. It was miraculous he had not already fallen to the floor. He could have walked away. Instead, he remained where he was and allowed Light to caress him, eyes turned away.

'Another partial acceptance.'

Light was fumbling for words. It took another two minutes before he was able to find them. By that time, he was gently massaging the back of Ryuzaki's neck. Coming to a decision, he seized his shoulder to turn his body towards him. When their eyes met, Light spoke honestly.

"I didn't realize I was doing that. I didn't know until you pointed it out right now. That's why I can't explain it."

Ryuzaki's shoulder relaxed under his hand. Light asked:

"Are you done your coffee?"

"Yes."

"Let's go, then. Okay?"

In lieu of verbally responding, Ryuzaki stood up. He did not shirk away when Light tentatively placed an arm around his waist. For that, Light was immensely relieved.

Later, Light sat at the table in the bedroom. Ryuzaki was across from him, reading a book. It was quiet and peaceful. An ideal venue in which to analyze whatever crossed his mind. He was struck again with how the detective made very few demands on him. Well, as long as Light didn't count the days following his advances on him.

A smile curved Light's lips.

Now that had been a sight to behold. Ryuzaki, the singly most passive-aggressive person Light had ever met. But he had handled it. He held it all under control and refused to react belligerently. Instead, he kept his own anger and puzzlement under wraps and sought a solution to the problem.

In the midst of all this self-congratulating, it crept up on him. Memory, stealthy and merciless, invaded his stream of consciousness. The knowledge it brought shocked him. It was apt and resonated strongly with what had transpired between he and Ryuzaki.

It had happened before. Ryuzaki was only the most recent person to act towards Light in an insidiously hostile way. There had been others. Many, many others. There had been people, for as long as he could remember, who said one thing and did another. Light attempted to ignore the growing uneasiness pervading his body. Instead, he focused on this new information and categorized it.

'This must be another layer of comprehension. Why it exists, where it came from.'

Apparently, without his conscious assent, a decision had been made. Light would contemplate this in an in-depth way. Perhaps it was because of Ryuzaki's questions. They had illustrated there was a discrepancy in his recent behavior, compared to before. What had shaken Light was not that observation.

It had been his inability to answer Ryuzaki.

He really didn't know why he was acting the way he was. He had refrained from conversing with everyone equally, speaking only when required. But why was he putting himself in physical contact with Ryuzaki as much as possible? Reaching for him constantly, barely even looking at him while he did so.

The easy answer was that he touched Ryuzaki because he wanted to. That was correct, but there was more to it. The difficult answer lay further within. In his memories and experiences of the past. He would have to seek them out.

The uneasiness was no longer suppressible. Light's stomach lurched. Nausea meshed with his rapidly constricting chest. They fed off each other in a repellent symbiosis. He used all his self-control to keep the discord from showing, to keep his breathing slow and even. It wasn't long before he realized it was a battle he could not win.

Light needed to be alone.

Taking the one option that was available, he went to the bathroom. Once the door was closed, he undressed and stepped into the shower. After a quick scrub, the bath was filled. He sunk into the hot water. All the while, he resolutely kept his mind in check. Now, under these private and comforting conditions, he let it go.

He started with an impartial accumulation of the obvious facts. He was intelligent, a genius. Therefore, he had always been the top of his class. While others struggled, Light achieved perfect grades. It earned admiration and respect from everyone around him. And envy.

He was attractive. The sheer number of love letters he had received throughout his school years could probably fill a room. Valentine's Day consistently left him with more chocolate than he could possibly eat. Amidst the back-slapping and teasing from the other students, he often sensed it. A malice behind the friendly faces. Envy again.

It went further than that. All the way back for as far as he could recall. Even when he was a small child. At the park, the other mothers would crowd around. They would fawn at him, gushing compliments to Sachiko about her "perfect son". His mom would respond by praising their children in turn, but Light could tell she was pleased to be the recipient of such attention. Maybe that was why he was the only one who noticed the tightened fists and hard eyes of the other parents. It was also likely why he had been proficient at reading body language since a young age. He had learned, maybe too early, that what people said was often in direct contrast to what they actually thought or felt.

He couldn't really blame anyone in this arrangement. Not his mom or the other parents. It was the society they lived in. Light had all the qualities that were most lauded. He did work for his grades but it was easier for him than most people. In fact, even if they worked harder than him, it was impossible for the majority of the other students to match his academic results. They did not have the intellectual capacity. Same with looks. He was, by accepted standards, quite handsome. However, it was something he was born with, and could not help.

At one time, when he was a child, he had been confused and hurt by all the conflicting messages around him. He would hear whichever friend's parent say to their child:

"Why can't you be more like Light-chan?"

or

"Light-chan is the smartest in the class. Maybe if you studied like him you would have placed higher."

And on and on it went. Light-chan was so polite, a perfect little gentleman. He never dirtied his clothes, playing in the park. He didn't throw a tantrum and cry, embarrassing his parents. There were many variations of the same theme. However, it all ended the same way.

Inevitably, the other kids started to distance themselves from him. Light could understand their reasoning. Who would want to be around someone who constantly casts you in a bad view? It was natural for the other children to reject that kind of scenario. Unfortunately for Light, what it manifested as was a rejection of him.

Back in the present, Light rolled his eyes and pulled the plug to drain the water.

This was not helping. Light remembered these events and was getting nowhere. Instead, he was becoming agitated and annoyed. What was the point? So, other people had envied him. So, even though they spoke nicely, he could perceive the thinly-veiled resentment in their eyes.

So what?

It was irrelevant. That was then and this was now.

It didn't affect him anymore. He had learned to ignore that kind of animosity. He expected it and declined to let it impact him. Light refused to diminish himself in order to be accepted and included. If someone had a problem with it, that was their issue. It had nothing to do with Light.

Light was dressing in the clothes he had worn earlier. He had intended to don pajamas but changed his mind. There was no way he could sleep. He was too aggravated. His hands shook as he buttoned his pants. When he opened the door, the force caused it to slam against the wall. Ryuzaki jumped and regarded him with alarm. Light barely noticed.

He strode towards the detective, stopping in front of him. He was already reaching for his arms when he said:

"Come on, Ryuzaki. Put the handcuffs on and let's go to the roof. I want to go outside."

Light, before even finishing his words, had already pulled him to his feet. He made it clear that he would not tolerate any protest. Ryuzaki gave him another one of those strange looks, and then silently complied.

When they reached the roof, Light stood at the edge. He leaned on his elbows and watched the city lights below. Down there, so many things were happening. People were living their lives; fighting, laughing, loving, hating. There were countless variations of what they were going through. Light felt completely removed from it all.

Above it, beyond it, excluded from it.

He tightly gripped the railing and ignored the pain it caused in his hands. When he spoke to Ryuzaki, it was through clenched teeth.

"I'm good at sports. Do you know that?"

"Yes."

Ryuzaki was sitting behind him. He was quite close. When Light released his arm, he had not moved away.

He looked back and down, to ensure the detective was listening.

"It's not just tennis. I'm good at all of them. I've excelled at every sport I've ever tried."

He turned his eyes back to the cityscape. His tone made it clear the next question was rhetorical.

"Do you want to know why I started playing sports?"

Ryuzaki answered anyway.

"Yes."

"I was around ten. My friends would get together to play soccer. I didn't know about it at first because they never invited me. When I found out, I wanted to play too. So, I asked them."

Light turned around. He leaned his elbows on the ledge and stared down at the detective. In a hardened voice, he asked:

"Can you guess what they said?"

Ryuzaki was cast in pale moonlight. Light easily read the discomfort in his features.

"Did they say Light-kun was unwelcome?"

Light laughed. It was a harsh and discordant sound.

"Of course they didn't say that, that would have been honest! That's a little much to expect from most people, don't you think? … No, it was nothing like that. What they said was they were afraid I might get hurt. The game can get rough and if they were involved in causing me any injury, their parents would be mad at them."

"That sounds…reasonable."

"It does, doesn't it? To you and me now. But not to a ten-year old kid. I argued with them. I said I would be careful and make sure I didn't get injured. And that's when a whole bunch of other stuff came out. They didn't think I had time to play because I was studying. They didn't think I wanted to play because I liked to read and work on my computer. I told them that I did want to play. That's why I was asking them."

He hesitated.

'How stupid. I must look ridiculous.'

This conversation was useless. There was no point to it. Light could not fathom why he was telling this old story to Ryuzaki. He had kept it to himself all these years. There was no reason to continue sharing it. He should stop talking.

'I never should have started.'

He moved to turn away but was halted by Ryuzaki's voice.

"What did they say next?"

Light turned back. He slid down the wall, and crouched. The ledge obstructed the light of the moon, forming a shadow. He used that darkness to obscure his features from the detective. Light hid himself in order to feel more secure. The rancor was gone from his tone when he responded.

"One kid finally spoke up. He was my next door neighbor. We always played together when we were growing up. I thought he was my closest friend. He said I probably wouldn't be any good at soccer. You know, because I was only good at getting high grades."

"That is illogical. Did you argue the point with him?"

"No," Light answered softly.

"Why not? You have never hesitated to argue with me."

Light smiled.

"Well, you're different. You see, it wasn't that they really felt I wouldn't be good at it. They just didn't want me to play."

The detective's features wrinkled in consternation. He opened his mouth and then closed it. Light watched comprehension dawn.

"I see," Ryuzaki stated.

Light settled into a seated position, with his back resting against the wall. He splayed his legs so they reached Ryuzaki, one to each side of him. When he pressed them into contact, he was not rebuffed. It took a minute or so for Light to feel the detective's warmth seeping into his calves. It was a soothing contrast to the chill night air. It comforted him. He continued the story.

"So, after that, I decided to learn every sport I could. My mom signed me up for teams and lessons and I joined sports clubs at school. Those were my after-school activities. I won several titles, including junior high champion in tennis, and then I quit. I guess I could have made a career out of any one of those, but that's not where my interests lie," Light said nonchalantly.

The detective looked to the side.

"Light-kun made great efforts to prove the other children were wrong."

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it."

Ryuzaki rested his chin on his knees, and watched him.

"You must have felt very alienated," he said quietly.

Light froze.

'What?'

He decided the conversation had gone on long enough. It was over.

Light pushed himself to his feet, and extended a hand to Ryuzaki.

"It's getting late. Let's go back inside."

When the detective grabbed hold, he pulled him up.

As they re-entered the building, for some reason, Light did not release Ryuzaki's hand. He held on.

And, for some reason, Ryuzaki let him.

It took a long time for Light to fall asleep that night.

He was restless and his mind erratic.

However, the stillness and quiet of the darkened room had a sedating effect. Eventually, Light settled. Only then was he able to examine Ryuzaki's observation in a neutral manner. It was fortunate he had not even attempted to respond at the time.

It had been so very difficult not to recoil. Or just start laughing hysterically.

What was Ryuzaki thinking? Light had not been alienated. He wondered if the detective had missed the entire theme of the story. He had participated in many sports and outclassed…no, been superior to everyone else. That was the point. Ryuzaki was extremely perceptive. Why didn't he see such a simple thing?

It was true that Light had been surrounded by people and always felt alone. But that had been his decision. It was his choice. He didn't really see any reason to make the effort to connect with other people. It was unrewarding when they only saw what they wanted to see. It was futile.

No, there was no validity in what Ryuzaki said.

'He's wrong.'

There was no doubt about it. And with that, Light's internal world was restored to order.

He drifted off to sleep, quickly and easily.

The next morning, he woke before the alarm went off.

Something had disturbed him, broken his slumber. There were fleeting images in his mind. Light tried to grasp them but they slipped away.

'A dream?'

It must have been. One he could not remember.

It had not been a pleasant experience. What he was feeling now was proof. Still, it was strange. He always remembered his dreams. They came in many forms, for example; mundane, bizarre, exciting. Normally, they didn't interest him. But this one did and, for the first time, he couldn't recall it. He needed to know.

What kind of dream left a sorrow like this in its wake?

The feeling was familiar. Perhaps it had been unwise to dig up the past. He did not want to experience this again. He had enough when he was younger. Rather than giving in, he had overcome it. Left it back there; where it belonged, where it should have stayed. Ryuzaki's words floated into his mind.

"You must have felt very alienated."

Light tried to summon the scorn required to dismiss that statement. It wouldn't come. Nothing would. Try as he might, there was no way to disrupt the bleakness encompassing him. It was like his inner world was turning grey, as order was overturned by desolation. He would not endure this again.

Light rose from bed. It was like he was in a trance; behaving like someone else.

Ryuzaki's eyes were already opening when he sat down. He was on his side, and Light put his body flush with his stomach. He did not lean over him as he once had. Instead, he placed one hand on his hip and silently watched him.

He could feel Ryuzaki's body slowly tensing. He remembered the earlier questions about why he touched him but did not speak. Queries that had served to highlight Ryuzaki's confusion.

And Light's too.

He spoke.

"I'm going to kiss you. If you don't want me to, then say it."

Light's free hand cupped Ryuzaki's cheek as he leaned forward. This kiss was not like the previous ones. He took his lips slowly and gently. When he slightly pressed back, Light was consoled. He would have liked to linger longer but the heat rising in his body was a sign. As tempting as it was to slip his tongue in the half-opened mouth under his, he did not want to push Ryuzaki. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

He broke the kiss but did not move away. Light caressed his back with small, soft motions. He lightly rested his forehead on Ryuzaki's, and closed his eyes. The rigidity in the detective's body had abated. With his other hand, Light touched his hair; trailing smooth locks through his fingers.

Light held on and Ryuzaki let him. It allowed him to finally understand why he had been driven to seek contact with him. Now, and in the preceding days.

Peacefulness filled him, chasing away sorrow and disquiet.

Light, through touching Ryuzaki, was reassured.

Tbc

Author's notes:

9 – The Hermit

contemplation, self-discovery, keeping to yourself, patience, prudent reflection, deliberation, attention to details, inner guidance, self-examination, reassessment, discovery, the process of searching for deeper truths, inner understanding, withdrawal from the outer world in order to awaken the inner self, the wish to bring knowledge to light, those in a period of preparation, transition, the subject must - in some sense - leave the outer world in order to work on himself, the inner transfer of attention from worldly activities to a person's inner needs, a required withdrawal from other people and activities once thought to be all-important, a deliberate purpose of withdrawing to work on self-development, maturity, a knowledge of what really matters in a person's life, assistance from a person who will help the subject in his self-discoveries

The Fool learns to look within, to reflect, and to trust his inner guidance. Through Strength, he has developed the inner fortitude to follow the path laid out by the Hermit. The concept of the Hermit's withdrawal is related to the High Priestess. However, unlike the passivity of the High Priestess, the Hermit symbolizes a deliberate mental effort. This takes the Fool beyond the locked-up intuition of the High Priestess, although it is not yet fully released. The result is self-awareness, wisdom, and knowledge.