Got this sorted out at last :) Yes! XD
Okay, this is the penultimate chapter. In a way. There are two more – but they are both different endings. The first one will be one that everyone can read relatively happily and the second one will be one that anyone who wants can read quite unhappily. I should be posting them soon – I have a cold at the moment so a bit slower than usual with everything. Including my mail, apologies for that.
The lyrics are from Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush.
SPOILERS: up to episode 25 anime/chapter 58 manga
DISCLAIMER: Death Note and its characters are not mine. Only this story is mine.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
It gets dark, it gets lonely
On the other side from you
I pine a lot, I find the lot
Falls through without you
You had a temper like my jealousy
Too hot, too greedy.
How could you leave me
When I needed to possess you?
I hated you. I loved you too.
Bad dreams in the night
You told me I was going to lose the fight
Oh, let me have it
Let me grab your soul away
My one dream
My only Master.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Yagami-kun, it's time for us to go," you say.
I nod and smile at you, but I really don't want to. What could I tell you? Oh, Ryuuzaki, I don't want to join in this pivotal part of the case because I have a bad feeling about it? You'd laugh. No, you'd probably think I wanted to stay behind and perform some evil Kira-related activity.
We leave a protesting Misa in restraints in the investigation room, then head for the roof. Taking one of the helicopters. I'm surprised when I see it's you who's going to fly it.
"You can pilot a helicopter as well as everything else?" I ask, when I've got used to the unusual sensation and the unnerving distance from the ground.
"It's not difficult, Yagami-kun," you smile gently. "You don't even need a license. You could learn to do it too."
We turn our attention to the GPS, noticing that Higuchi is traveling toward Yotsuba, rather than Sakura TV, where I had half-expected him to go to take out Matsuda. You must have expected it though, you're checking with Wedy that she's destroyed any surveillance tapes that have Matsuda on them.
As we follow, my mind drifts away, thinking about Higuchi's strange conversation in his car with apparently nobody. You suggested that he's talking to a Death God, a Shinigami, but I find that hard to comprehend.
"Maybe he has an imaginary friend?" I speak out loud without really meaning to and you glance at me.
"Kira is childish," you contemplate. "I suppose it's possible. He might even be denying responsibilty for his actions by placing the blame on some other, dissociated part of himself. Or perhaps he's schizophrenic and is doing what he thinks some greater force is commanding him to do."
"You think he'll head for the TV station." I'm not asking you. I know what you think. I just want to say something to offset the feeling of foreboding that's growing stronger in my mind.
"Eventually, yes," you agree. "He has to. There is no other way he can kill Matsuda apart from directly now. Although I wish I knew why he went to Yotsuba. It's as if he has to see the face again, maybe see it at the moment of killing? Rather than just remembering it, what do you think, Raito-kun?"
"It's possible," I say. "The original Kira must have had photos of his victims. Maybe the ability only works if you have the face in front of you. Or maybe killing with a face and a name is different to killing with a face alone."
"Perhaps he is not killing with a face alone," you theorise. "Perhaps in some way he now has a way to know someone's name by just seeing their face."
"Maybe –" I think about it. "But he needs to see them now? I mean, if he just obtained this new power somehow, he needs to see Matsuda now. See his face again."
"Yes, because he didn't have that power when he saw Matsuda before," you say excitedly.
"So he can't remember his name, because he didn't know it when he saw him," I add.
"It makes sense," you say. "As much as any of this makes any sense at all, Raito-kun. Look! He's leaving Yotsuba."
We watch for a few moments to be sure, then I contact my father, tell him that Higuchi's on his way to Sakura TV. Ask if he's okay. I'm concerned about him. He had a heart attack not long ago and this is stressful for him.
"I don't need my own son to worry about me," he says, dismissively. "I'm fine, Raito."
Well, that told me. And suddenly, I'm tired of it.
"If I have children," I say, out of the blue, "I want to spend as much time as possible with them."
"Of course, Raito-kun," you agree. "It's important to a child to have a settled life with the parents present. Anything else can lead to all kinds of doubts and insecurities and odd behaviours."
Our eyes meet and I smile at you. I wonder what your own life has been like. I want to make you happy. Banish some of those doubts and insecurities you seem to have in such abundance.
I realise at this point how grateful I am to you, simply for your interest in me. Not Kira, although it started that way. But me, Yagami Light, the person you work with and sleep with. You're the only person that has ever seen me. Known me. And despite the things you've found out about me, you still seem to want to be with me. It's unfamiliar, but reassuring, to think I might have something that everyone else seems to take for granted. Someone of my own. Companionship and – well, you haven't said you love me and perhaps you never will. But it doesn't matter to me what you say, as long as you keep on doing what you do with me.
"He's there!" you say, and we listen as they surround him, the sounds of confusion, a plan going wrong.
My father's been shot. Not dead, injured somehow, I don't know. All I can think of is that Higuchi's escaped.
"There's no choice," you say. "We have to join the pursuit. Watari, are you ready? Yagami-kun, take this. Since we are dealing with Kira here."
I realise that you're passing me a pistol.
"No," I tell you. "That's illegal in Japan."
"I'm sure Yagami-san said exactly the same thing." Your voice is sarcastic, but you don't press me and I'm relieved.
I don't give a fuck about having a gun. God knows, you do so many illegal things from day to day that my doing one isn't going to add much to our score. It's almost flattering that you'd trust me so much anyway. But I'm scared. The feeling of impending evil, of something about to go wrong has intensified. I'm worried that if I have a gun I might use it. Not on Kira. On you. On myself. I don't know. But I don't want it, don't want to give myself any opportunity to – to fail. I don't trust myself any more and I feel as if I'm walking through a fog, looking for a light that never shines.
I dismiss my thoughts on this, there's too much else to think about as we finally capture Higuchi, as he's stopped from killing himself and has to give up.
"I suppose it's over," I hear the surprise in my tone. What now? What will you do?
"Yes." your own voice holds a note of regret. "It is."
They secure Higuchi and you demand that he confesses, threaten him when he's reluctant. He looks defeated, powerless. I can't imagine him as Kira somehow. I'd always thought Kira would be more impressive than that.
"It's a notebook," the kneeling murderer finally says. "If you know a person's face and write their name in that notebook, they die."
I shake my head in disbelief as they search his bag and find the book. My dad's doing it, despite his injury. Of course, he would. Ignoring his own pain – the same way he ignores everything else besides his work. He's puzzled, tells us there are names in the notebook but nothing unusual about it. Then I start, clutching at your arm as my father yells and falls to the floor, fumbling in his jacket for a gun he doesn't have.
"M – monster!" he cries out and as you try to calm him down, I reflect with some satisfaction that perhaps my dad has finally found something he can't manage to ignore. I wonder if he's going to have another heart attack, but I just can't bring myself to care very much about it.
It seems the notebook is causing the team to see monsters and you peer over the edge of your teacup – much to my amusement, you insist on having all the comforts of home, even in your helicopter, my sweet sybarite – and ask for the book to be brought to you.
As you take it, you glance toward the confusion around Higuchi and your eyes widen.
"Shinigami... they exist... they're real..." You seem stunned and I snatch the book from you, desperate to find out what's going on, what you're seeing that's made you so uncharacteristically dumbstruck. You don't even notice as I take it.
It hits me like the front end of a speeding bus, like a tsunami. I remember. I remember – everything. How could I have forgotten all of this? All of this time, I've been half aware, half of myself and it hurts me to regain the rest. I scream, thrown back into my seat by the force of the revelation, overwhelmed by the onslaught of memories I want, don't want, don't know if I want or not.
I give a kind of gasping whimper and slump forward, absorbing the realisation of who I am. What I am.
"Are you all right?" your face is concerned. "Anyone would be scared to death, seeing a monster like that."
I don't answer you, merely tell you that I need to get on with comparing the names in the book with the list of victims. I'm aware that you're looking at me, your face questioning, a little sad, but I ignore you. I have more important things to do right now.
I turn away from you, open the back of my watch and find the piece of Death Note paper I hid in there. And a pin, with which I prick my finger, using the blood to write Higuchi's name.
We discuss the notebook a little bit, your eyes turning to me. I can see the suspicion in them. You know something's happened, but you don't know what. You spin away from me as Higuchi convulses, falls to the floor. I smile, unseen. He's dead. The Death Note is mine.
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"Tomorrow," you say as you unfasten the handcuffs. "You can go home tomorrow."
"Fine with me," I agree. My dad's not happy that you won't release me tonight but I don't really give a damn. I'm coming to the conclusion that I don't want to go back to living with my parents. Even if I didn't have you to think about. So we've told him we're going to work on the names from the book tonight in our rooms, finish up some of the outstanding work that remains to be done.
"I want a shower," you say, disappearing into the bathroom. I'd go with you, but I have things to think about. Plans to make. Instead, I sit with the laptop, ostensibly going through the list of names, my mind busy with all kinds of considerations of how our situation has changed.
"I'm making dinner now," you tell me some time later, as you whisk through into the kitchen, leaving a pleasantly perfumed aroma behind you.
I grunt something at you, absorbed in what I'm doing. Take no notice of the further smells that start to permeate the atmosphere, this time of cooking.
What do I do now? My plan, my original plan, is working fine so far. I'm the owner of the Death Note and when you test the fake rules – which you will, I know you – well, then Rem will kill you to protect Misa.
There's just one problem with all that. I no longer want you to die.
I killed Higuchi. I realise now that in some ways, that was the biggest mistake I could have made. But without the Death Note being in my possession, I wouldn't have the knowledge of what I've done. I wouldn't know enough to make things happen as I want them to. Apart from anything else, I could hardly leave him alive and keep regaining the memories every time I touch the notebook. It's a shock to me and you'd notice. Probably wouldn't do much for my state of mind either.
"Dinner," you interrupt me.
"Fine," I murmur, mind still whirling with possibilities and options. I get up and turn to you, then stop. Staring. My eyes feel as if they're bulging out of their sockets and my mouth is hanging open. Possibly I'm drooling, I don't look down to check.
You're wearing a robe, a yukata, quite normal after a shower or bath. Except that they're not normally black and far from opaque. I can see you through it, hints of skin, flashes of subtle curves and lines. Not everywhere. On top of the robe you're wearing an apron, to protect it from cooking splashes. The logo on the front is a large gothic L, followed by the rather immodest statement 'World's No. 1.'
"Self-aggrandisement, Ryuuzaki?" I find my voice, now trying to stifle laughter.
"If you've got it, flaunt it," you remark as you place dishes on the table. "Besides, bands have their names on t-shirts, why shouldn't I have mine on my pinny?"
You swish away into the kitchen, returning with more plates.
"You've done a lot of cooking," I say, going through into the kitchen to wash my hands.
"I thought Raito-kun would be hungry after such a busy day," you give me a sweet smile as you pick up a basket of drained tempura and go to place it on the table.
I raise an eyebrow and follow you, sitting at the table, speculating about what you're up to here. You don't do anything without a reason. But this has got me mystified, first you tell me you don't like the way you look, then you dress up in a revealing costume like this – I temporarily stop thinking as you remove the apron, revealing even more.
"That's, uh, attractive, Ryuu," I tell you, squinting to try and see more clearly through the folds and drapes of cloth.
"Raito says he likes to look at me," you say, sitting down and helping me to food from some of the dishes. "I thought he might like to see a little more than usual."
"Mhm, yes," I agree, torn between wanting to eat the extremely appetising food you've prepared – because you were right, I am hungry – and indulging a completely different kind of desire which is making me uncomfortable in my clothes at the sight of you. I notice that the top of your robe is slightly open and I can't help leaning forward, trying to see down the gap.
"Raito-kun is staring down the front of my clothing," you remark and I do laugh at that.
"Ryuuzaki is given to stating the obvious," I reprove you gently. "That's why I like the clothes you normally wear."
"I didn't know that Raito did like them?" you look surprised.
"I like the baggy tops," I say with my mouth full. "They're so loose around the neck, I can always see a bit of your shoulder or your chest. It's enticing. And those oversized jeans – when you stretch or bend over I get to see your underwear because of the lowrider effect."
"I'm beginning to think Raito spends half the time I am imagining he is working, actually ogling me," you say with a smile.
"You'd be right," I confess. And realise, that for the last few minutes, I haven't thought about Kira at all. What is it you do to me?
I go for my own shower after we finish eating. I should say, after I finish, you're still murdering dessert. It seems strange to stand under the warm spray alone, the bathroom empty of anyone but myself. I can't believe I could miss being chained to another man, the clinking, the weight, the annoyingness of it all – and the bruises when you pull me – but miss it, it seems I do. Insane. I think some more about the present state of affairs while I'm washing but come to no conclusions and in the end decide I need to sleep on it. You'll still be here in the morning and so will the Death Note.
When I come out, you're nowhere to be seen. I go through to the bedroom, stopping in the doorway as I see you. Lying on the bed, robe askew, my mind informing me that I see nipples, that I see legs and then just shutting down and letting my hormones run things from here on.
"L!" I pounce on you, losing the towel somewhere on the way.
"Eee!" you try to wriggle away but I catch you, pinning you beneath me as I clasp your head between my hands and press my lips to yours. You respond eagerly, opening your mouth for me, welcoming my tongue into it with licks and caresses.
I break for air and you pull away slightly, looking at me speculatively.
"Are you going home tomorrow, Raito-kun?" you ask.
"I don't know," I say. "No. There's still the case to work on. Loose ends to tie up. The notebook to investigate. Let me stay here with you."
"Stay?" you look thoughtful. "Your father won't like that."
"I don't care," I tell you. "I want to – I mean, is it embarrassing for you if I stay?"
You laugh at that. "Raito-kun, when have you ever noticed me worrying about what other people think of me?"
"So you don't mind?"
"They already think I'm a pervert, chaining us together." You run your fingers over my chest, slowly, languorously. "Why would I care if their suspicions are confirmed? But I was thinking of you. Your father would be angry with you if he thinks you want to stay with me now you don't have to."
"I don't give a damn about it," I say. "I don't like him anyway."
We stare at each other. I wonder why I said that. I didn't mean to. I'm losing control, what do you do to me?
"I know." Your voice is gentle, but your eyes aren't.
"How do you know that?" I demand. "I didn't even know it myself until today."
"You resent him because he never spent time with you," you explain myself to me, annoyingly. "You've always been good at everything, been the best you can be, better than anyone else in some respects. And yet, nothing worked. Nothing made him want to be with you, did it, Raito-kun?"
"Ryuuzaki –" I sigh, getting a grip on my temper. "Are you trying to provoke me?"
"I like your anger, Raito," you tell me with a mischievous smile.
"No, you don't," I say. "You wouldn't like me angry. Not now."
"Why, Raito-kun?" Your gaze is intent on me. "What has changed?"
"Nothing," I say. "I just – last time I was angry, you didn't like it. You told me not to."
"What if I tell you I don't mind?" you purr at me. "What if I tell you to do whatever you want with me? To me?"
I lean away from you, nervous suddenly. You know, don't you. You know – and this is some kind of test. You want to see how I behave, if I welcome the chance to overcome you.
"I'm not interested in that kind of power," I say, lightly. "Isn't it Ryuuzaki who likes to be sure of me, chaining me to him? I don't feel the need to control you to that extent."
"On the contrary, Raito-kun, I think the lack of power and the need to exert control are the most characteristic attributes you have." You shuffle toward me, making us close again and I can't back away without falling off the bed. "All your life you've tried to be what other people want, tried to efface yourself. No wonder if you take power when it's offered to you, no matter from where it comes."
"I don't know what you mean, Ryuuzaki," I say.
"I like your anger, Raito," you change the subject. "It's real. A lot of things about you aren't real, but that is."
"I don't lie to you!" I exclaim. "Is that what you're saying? That I lie to you? After all we've said to each other? Everything I've told you?"
"I hope you will tell me everything, Raito-kun." You sigh and turn away from me. "I'd like to think you could trust me enough to do that. But I won't insist. Not yet. It's been a difficult day and we both need time to think about it."
"Come here." I grab your arms and pull you into mine, not too kindly. It's either fuck you or hit you, I'm too disturbed to do nothing and I don't want to hit you. You seem about to speak, but I kiss you to make you silent and after a moment, you give in, kissing me back, tightening your arms around me, letting me lay you back on the bed.
I lean over you, looking at your face, the slight flush on your cheekbones, your huge eyes fixed on mine, your black, wild hair straggling over the sheets.
"You have to trust me, L," I tell you. "That's what's important now. Trust me. Let me stay with you. I need you to do that. It's no good if I'm alone."
"Of course, Raito," you reach up, run your fingers along the side of my face. "Whatever you need."
I nod and bend down to you, burying my face in your neck, kissing and licking the soft, smooth skin, sinking my teeth into you, marking you. It'll show in that baggy-necked top you wear but I don't care any more if someone sees, if someone knows I bite you and love you in the night. I don't give a fuck.
"Aah, Raito," you murmur, holding me tight, adjusting yourself underneath me so I'm lying on top of you, your legs lifting to wrap around me. My hands are all over you, pulling your robe away from your warm skin, touching, feeling you.
"My Raito," you whisper into my ear, stroking down my back, your nails gently scratching me, making me groan and grind my hips against you, feeling your hardness meeting mine.
I roll away from you, reaching for the bottle of lotion on the bedside table. You look up at me, eyes slightly glazed as I open it and pour it out onto my fingers.
"L, let me," I ask you and you smile, opening for me, your face contorting in pain and then pleasure as I prepare you, my fingers deep inside you, working you, stretching you.
I slide from the low bed, pulling you to the edge, kneeling and lifting your legs over my shoulders.
"Yes!" You lean up on your elbows, watching me as I position myself, you look eager. "I like this, Raito, yes!"
"Beautiful L," I tell you, entering you, watching you feel it, respond to it, your eyes widening, then half closing, looking at me lustfully. I try to go slowly but you're not having it, you push yourself onto me, demanding, the little whimpering sounds from your lips undoing my resolve.
I clutch at your hips, driving myself deep into you, hearing you gasp and moan, watching you clutch handfuls of the covers as I abandon caution and pull out, nearly all the way, then thrust forward, embedding myself in you.
"Light!" you're speaking English, it's what you do when you're aroused and that excites me. I pump my tormented cock hard into you, hard and fast and you move your hips against me, engulfing me inside you.
"Mhm, take me!" you command and I lean over you, staring down at your flushed cheeks, the open, almost innocent desire on your face.
"Up!" I say, pulling out of you suddenly.
"What?" you look appalled. "Light – what?"
I slide back onto the bed, grabbing your hand and pulling you up the bed. Sitting against the headboard I take hold of your hips, encouraging you to straddle me. You smile like a child promised a treat and lower yourself onto me, my cock slipping easily into you now, encased in slick heat.
I rest my hands on your slender, delicate waist, watching as you ride me, your thighs clenched around mine, head thrown back, moaning wantonly as I buck my hips up into you, matching the rhythm you set.
You whimper as I slide my fingers down, parting your thighs so I can caress them, stroking over the soft skin, back up over the curve of your hips. Then behind, gripping you, lifting you off me and pulling you back down, your hands clenching around my arms, you body damp and glowing with sweat.
I see you're close and I lift you right off me, causing a squeak of outrage.
"Again, Yagami-kun!" That tells me you're angry, surname time now. I smile, not heeding you and take your shoulders, turning you around. Before you can gather your wits enough to start berating me for interrupting your pleasure, I grasp your hips and pull you back, thrusting forward, impaling you on me again.
"Haah!" you moan, and I slide my arms around you, one holding your waist, pulling you back against me, my other hand slipping down to encircle your stiff cock, now soaking with precum.
"Aaah, yes, don't stop!" you murmur, pushing back onto me, reaching behind to pull at me, pull me into you. "Hold me... hold me... Light... don't let me go... don't!"
"No, no, never," I sigh into your ear. "I promise you..." I trail my fingers along your length, teasing you with light touches, making you groan in frustration. I laugh, breathless, then tighten my fist around you, pumping you, taking pity on your need.
You tilt your head back, your cheek pressed against mine and I'm lost, nothing but the maddening friction of our bodies, joined, moving on each other. The tight, wet heat of you enclosing me, squeezing me. My sharp gasps and grunts and your wild cries as you abandon yourself to my possession of you.
You arch back against me suddenly, crying out my name and I feel you jerk in my hand, your seed spilling over my fingers. The stimulated muscles of your hot, slippery passage clench around me and I give in to you, thrusting into you as I release, spurting my juices into you. My head pressed into the curve of your neck, my mouth on you, tasting your sweat, moaning around your soft flesh as you drain me.
We fumble ourselves under the covers eventually, lying together, wrapped around each other. Your skin is hot against mine, slick and smooth, your hair tickling my face as your head rests on my shoulder.
"You fascinate me," you murmur against my neck, the cool breeze of your breath making me shudder.
"Hm?" I'm not yet ready for words.
"I've always been interested in things," you muse. "Events, facts, occurrences – I've never been captivated like this by another human being."
"Do you like it?" I manage.
"I don't know," you say. "It's fragile. The bond between two people. There are many more enduring things I could pursue."
"It's not a matter of choice," I say.
"You don't think so?"
"Not for me."
"Fortunate," you say, with a sigh. "What would I do without you?"
"You don't have to be without me." I turn to you, pressing my lips to your soft hair. "I told you. You have to trust me. I'll put things right."
"I'm not in the habit of letting other people do my thinking for me," you say rather acerbically.
"Trust me, this once," I insist. "That's all. I'll explain it all to you soon."
"Hm." you shift impatiently.
"Go to sleep now," I cajole. "It's late."
"We'll talk more about this later, Raito," you warn me.
"I know we will," I agree. "Mr Persistence."
You breathe laughter and then you're silent. I listen as your breathing slows, as you fall asleep, then I slide my hand down over your chest. I can feel the heavy, regular beating of your heart beneath your ribs. I picture it, driving the blood around your body. It keeps you alive. Makes you what you are; aware and here. With me. The scruffily elegant young man that torments and annoys and owns me daily. I wonder what it would be like if that sound faltered and ended, if that simple physiological process should cease and you just – stopped.
I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Dismantle my plan, somehow. Am I not to be Kira any more? I can feel the urge to do that, the temptation of regaining that power. I can kill you and you'd never know until it was too late. But I don't want to. As I told you, it's not a matter of choice. Not any more. I don't want to live without you, it's as simple as that. To kill you – would be to destroy myself. That is an option, I suppose, but it's not one I want to take.
Still, it's nice to be aware, that although you'll never know about it, I've won. I hold your life in my hand and it's my choice to give it back to you. The thought cheers me and I smile into the darkness. I reach for your limp hand, take it in mine and lay it over my own heart, decision made.
