The first time Light sees Ryuk, it's like a strike of lightning. A snap of a branch in winter woods. Light's guess is he could call it a shock. Falling flat on his ass, Light feels as if he has been at once submerged into a giant body of water, and the scream dies in his throat. The towering form of a creature completely alien to this world shakes him to his core. Too many questions, though Light's brain rarely overloads. He recovers quickly, it's something he prides himself on, and the death god's voice is curiously human. Speaking of all things impossible. Light contemplates the situation and the sheer grotesqueness of the sharp-toothed grin, the wall-eyed white face, the limbs of a giant scarecrow. But that's what a death god is, is it not? A mystery heretofore shrouding the phenomenon of death slips off like black cloth right before Light's eyes. He carefully considers the news, turns it this way and that in his brain, builds a new picture from dark spreading blotch in the corner that is Ryuk assures Light that he isn't, in fact, The Chosen 's of no importance, Light decides. Being chosen by something like Ryuk could only mean a curse, and he's better off without it. The death god jangles and clinks with all the adornments he carries on himself, and Light wonders if the concept of vanity is something known to the world of death gods. The jagged line of Ryuk's teeth owes something to a shark, making no sense at all. Do death gods eat human flesh? Light imagines his finger pads catching onto those fangs, blood blooming like a red rose. No, he isn't afraid to lose a hand, or anything else to this creature, really. Part of being effective is accepting the change quickly. Light watches Ryuk wolf down the apples, and is briefly tickled by how desperate this immensely powerful beast is in the face of instant addiction. Well, he hasn't started respecting Ryuk yet, and now, chances are, he never will. The ozone simmers between them, their voices mixing with the rain. It surprizes Light how quickly he can find within himself something that can relate to a death god. He suffers of boredom as well. Things never fall in his hands by themselves, but those are strong, capable hands that are not afraid of hard work. Light still prefers his head, though. So a link now exists before them. As he comes to terms with it, Ryuk does not budge. Light doesn't like the way he dominates the place, and thinks he's had just about enough of that smile. The pause stretches between them.
"Does it mean you will be with me always?"
Ryuk huffs.
"Maybe. Does that bother you?"
"Not in the slightest," Light lies.
So that's what he is now. A means of entertainment. It comes with all sorts of questions, and Light thinks about them while finishing his homework with the death god's silent presence looming over him. Light's hands itch to use the death note again, to not waste so much time doing unimportant things. He is not like Ryuk. He has no time to waste on games and being lazy. The fact that this is all death gods do is somehow exasperating. Diminishing. Turns out human life is worth nothing, having remained a toy for higher beings for millenia. For a few minutes there is no sound but the rustle of rain outside and the scraping of Light's pen against paper.
"Is that all you're gonna do today?"
Light smirks.
"Are you disappointed?"
"A little bit."
Light is not in a hurry to live up to a death god's expectations, but nevertheless, once the homework is done, he pulls out the note, and Ryuk perks up noticeably.
Suddenly, Light is aware that the monster has taken his spot on the bed, absurdly long and angular limbs folding into awkward shapes. With all this pageantry, he completely overlooked the mundane nuance: is the death god going to stay for the night? Light tries to be casual about it, tracing out the hieroglyphs on the page.
"So...are you gonna watch me sleep?"
Ryuk's earring chimes as he turns his head Light's way.
"I don't think it's that interesting."
Why did Light take any of the creature's words seriously in the first place? Ryuk could have said what he wanted, and then kill Light in his sleep. Screw the death note, the fucker could easily throttle Light with those gigantic paws of his. As if hearing Light's thoughts, Ryuk chuckles in a particularly unpleasant way.
"You think I'm gonna kill you? It's not time yet. Things have just started getting curious."
"I don't think anything," Light finishes a surname with a flourish and chews on the tip of his pen without looking up. "I have no idea what's going on inside a death god's head."
"Not much," Ryuk says simply, and Light believes him for some reason.
Light waits until Sayu is finished with her evening shower and takes his sleeping T-shirt and a fresh pair of boxers out of the wardrobe. Ryuk's head swivels to follow his movements like he's a robot on a servo-unit. When Light opens the door, Ryuk stands, again making the room look small. Light looks over his shoulder.
"Are you thinking of following me even to the bathroom?"
Light tenses up. It's not like he can do anything about it. An unwelcome sensation of vulnerability creeps under Light's skin. Ryuk shrugs.
"Anywhere is fine." The underlying issue either doesn't reach him or does not concern him in the slightest.
Light's fingers bracket the door frame. Without saying a word, he pads through the corridor into the bathroom. Under Ryuk's glowing gaze he shrugs out of the shirt, peels off the pants and folds them neatly on the washing machine. Still in his boxers, he adjusts the temperature of the water. It hisses into the bathtub, filling the room with low rumble, and the mirror gets cloudy. Now what?
Ryuk's face is perfectly impassive as Light turns to look up at him. He stares stupidly, almost as if Light is made of clear glass, and says nothing. Right. It seems that it's better to perceive Ryuk's presence as the indifferent eye of a camera. In his turn, Light shrugs and strips down completely, chucking the bunch of elastic gray fabric into the laundry basket. Still, he can't restrain a shiver.
Stepping into the bathtub, he pulls the plastic curtain close, and Ryuk has no objections to that. Light counts the minutes. The hot water sucks the stiffness earned by slaving away at the desk out of his muscles, and Light counts minutes. Somehow he is startled to come out of the shower and find the death god completely still, like a statue, and boring his gaze into the middle of the opposite wall.
"I hope that entertained you." The words come out with a little more edge than Light intends, but Ryuk doesn't react. He simply waits for Light to rub the wetness off himself with a towel, and follows him back to his room. Maybe it's not worth all the fuss, Light thinks. Adam and Eve did not feel shame before God, until they bit into the forbidden fruit. Ryuk is not exactly what most people would have pop up in their mind at the word "god", but he is… well, something else. Maybe demanding from Ryuk adherence to human etiquette is akin to trying to force a dog to take a piss without lifting its leg.
Light slips under the blanket and puts his hands under his head, contemplating the vast emptiness of the ceiling.
"Ryuk," he says suddenly.
The tall shape in the corner shifts.
"Do death gods see us humans as… I don't know, germs? In the lab?"
Ryuk waits out a moment, then rustles quietly.
"We don't look at you in any particular way. I think you're overestimating your own importance, to be honest."
"I see."
A private smile finds its way to Light's lips, and he drifts off sooner than he can think of another question.
It takes Light a week to get used to Ryuk to the point of hardly noticing him when he goes about his business through the day, or walks home from school, or does his homework. The only time he concentrates his thoughts on the death god - or death gods in general, to be more exact - is when he kills. Do death gods feel the same level of satisfaction when a body hits the floor? When a potential rapist is stopped, when an utter bastard of a man stops existing? Ryuk's whole demeanor gives Light a clue that death gods simply don't give a shit. But… Ryuk's come down here for some reason, hasn't he?
When Ryuk speaks of eyes, Light doesn't speculate for a moment. His life has gained more meaning than ever, and throwing away half of it is not an option. Lying supine on his bed, Light muses about wings instead.
That day the sky weeps again, and Ryuk throws open a window, letting in the lashes of wind and a spray of droplets.
"What are you…" Light begins, and loses all words when he sees Ryuk's outstretched arm.
"Wings can be arranged as well," Ryuk chuckles, and Light understands that the benefits of taking that long-clawed hand in this particular moment outweigh the risks.
Light clings to Ryuk's feathered shoulders, blinking away the water in his eyes as they fly right through a stormcloud, and the crack of lightning makes him snuggle against Ryuk like a baby koala against its mother. A glance down has his head spinning, and he feels a scream swelling up in him, a scream that holds no fear or pain but lets out a firework of joy instead. Of course, it never escapes him. Light is not a child to lose control like that.
Blaming his soaked clothes and hair on a careless afternoon stroll, Light changes into old sweatpants and a T-shirt, now without a hitch under Ryuk's scrutiny. Yeah, he's almost like a dog. Albeit never as attached or emotional. Light quite likes this about Ryuk. Obviously, this is how a death god should be. Indifferent. Ryuk passes no judgment, nor does he criticize.
"Thanks."
"For what?" Ryuk is already busy chewing up an apple, and Light sees no point in explaining.
The problem pops up in a few days, when Yuki Akane's parents go on a camping trip. Yuki tugs Light in tow when they cross the threshold of her home, and Ryuk floats in just the same. Light gently nibbles Yuki's lower lip as he kisses her, his eyes fixed on Ryuk, who in turn watches Yuki's deft little hand slip under Light's belt. Breaking the eye contact with Ryuk, Light promptly presses Yuki to the wall and busies himself with pulling her panties down. She moans into his mouth, and her manicured little claws dig into Light's shoulders. Do gods of death feel attraction to human females? Are gods of death all male? How do they multiply? The questions fly through Light's mind like a succession of gunshots, and he finds himself more preoccupied with them than the wetness of Yuki's cunt. He goes through the process with his usual prowess, fighting back the urge to turn to Ryuk and ask his opinion venomously. Well, Ryuk wanted something interesting to look at.
He only gets shaken when on his way back home Ryuk congratulates Light on being popular. It's an absurdly nice thing for a death god to say, but Light chooses to ignore it. Yeah. Like a camera. A camera that talks. A lot. Ryuk is a talkative guy and nothing can be done about it, Light soon understands. Sometimes he talks over the school teachers, and it annoys Light more than getting ass naked in front of a death god every night. When Ryuk watches him have sex for the second time, Light ruminates on the possible size of a death god's dick, if he has one. Ryuk's size as a whole suggests monstrous proportions, and Light feels nothing about it. He's not going to have sex with Ryuk. The mere concept of it is so ridiculous it makes him laugh. When Ryuk asks what's so funny, Light gets convinced that death gods can't read thoughts.
When Light explains to Ryuk how even skillful hands have less importance than good looks, the subtle insult goes over Ryuk's head. Hell, he might even be considered handsome in the death gods' world. Light cannot imagine their beauty standards. Taking a break from writing names down, Light meditates on the subject of Ryuk's offensively bad looks and inadvertently finds a strange kind of harmony in the death god's features. The guy looks like a carnivorous clown, sort of. There's a whole art dedicated to making humans look like Ryuk. So it's in the eye of the beholder, Light analyzes, though the only beholder around is Light himself. He later decides to never waste time thinking about such minor issues.
And soon he forgets about that completely, as the new complication arises. The cameras now have judging eyes behind them. Light circumnavigates all the traps with staggering success, with the help of Ryuk, who for the first time proves himself to be useful.
The god's withdrawal symptoms amuse Light somewhat, but he shows mercy eventually and feeds Ryuk from his hand, not in the slightest concerned about the proximity of those fangs to his soft-fleshed hand. Ryuk untwists himself and asks for another apple. The question why Ryuk won't take it himself does not cross Light's mind as he holds up the fruit and observes, almost hypnotized, how a death god eats from his hand like a pet. It becomes a tradition, though sometimes Light doesn't have the time for that, so he tosses an apple into the air, and Ryuk catches it like a trained animal. Light's eyebrow twitches when he sees it for the first time, and his lips stretch into a thin smile.
Light soon jumps himself through the flaming hoops of exams, and does not feel a sliver of joy when his mother waves the paper with his grades happily. He shrugs at Ryuk's congratulations and concentrates on the most pressing issues. Like L, who turns out to be a… well, Light can't call him a child, because L is roughly his age. L successfully yanks Light's attention out of Ryuk's paws, but Ryuk doesn't seem to have any objections. The real game is on, and the death god is most entertained.
He must be especially pleased when L corners Light, and Yagami's mask of serene calmness flies off. Light spites and spurns, yells at the top of his lungs, and, it seems, surprizes Ryuk. He couldn't care less about that, exactly, but when he secures a white-knuckled grip on the windowsill looking out at Kanto district out of his window, he is forced back into reality, because he feels a large hand weigh down on his shoulder. He grows rigid, thinks about throwing the hand off. Who the fuck does this death god think he is? Light's mother?
"Calm down, Light."
Clawed fingers squeeze the muscles and creep up to brush against Light's nape. It sends a shiver through Light. The rustle of leaves outside and the quiet ticking of the secondhand in Light's clock dominate the space for a while, until Light's shoulders sag, and a thin, cold trail of rational calmness seeps into Light's spine. Right. How could he lose the hold on himself like that? Raging like a toddler who didn't get a candy.
"Don't stop."
The gentle tug on Light's shoulder guides him to step backwards to his bed and sit down. There is a subtle, brief sense of wrongness as Light feels Ryuk's weight crush the mattress. So the death god can become as tangible as any human, when he wants. Light closes his eyes as a large palm strokes his hair. Light's eyelids sink, and he suddenly is exhausted. Worn out like a piece of overused fabric. Sagging into Ryuk's touch, he lays on his side and wraps his arms around his knees. The time he lied like this for the last time seems awfully distant.
He spends a few minutes like this, he doesn't know how many exactly, and then Ryuk's hand disappears. Without opening his eyes, Light reaches behind himself, bumps his hand into Ryuk's cool, leather-clad form, and his finger pads slide over the silver rings on Ryuk's knuckles. Light slips into slumber with a vague understanding of their fingers being intertwined.
The next day Ryuk lets Light act like nothing happened. Not completely bereft of the ability to put things into perspective, Light notices that Ryuk's demeanour resembles that of an especially lenient parent. Ryuk's petulant, but collected child is entirely engulfed by his new line of work - leading L down the garden path. It is not by all means easy, and Light, despite Ryuk's adamant principle to stand neuter, secretly hopes that the death god is rooting for him. After all, has he not provided the entertainment Ryuk hasn't seen for millenia? Sometimes Light forgets how old Ryuk is. Older than anything Light's ever known. Light is also prepared for eternity. His shell might wither and disintegrate with time, but his fame will live forever. For fuck's sake, a god is riveted by his work.
The days become brighter, longer, and Light hears right nonsense from the death god. People who come in contact with death gods are deeply unhappy, apparently. In Light's eyes, this doesn't even warrant a laugh. He's quite happy, with where the world is going and with where his place in this world is. On his way to the throne, he is. And Ryuk… Well, Ryuk hasn't caused him any pain yet. The sudden awareness of how easily the death god could do it lances through Light on a bad day, and he is almost grateful. It's almost as if Ryuk is… kind? Light leans back in his seat and turns back to look at Ryuk, meets the same blank stare as usual. It is quite difficult to discern any emotion in Ryuk, with his permanent grin and positively phlegmatic disposition. Light is never not aware of the threat it might pose.
Though there is no doubt that they have grown on each other. Men in rasons keep saying that we all are on God's watch at all times, but Light is quite possibly the only one who actually knows what it's like. He is proven wrong when Misa Amane comes into picture. Her god is quite different, in every sense. A seemingly depression-stricken female who harbors - of all things - genuine love for her human. Light is relieved to know there is nothing of the sort between him and Ryuk. There is only… well, he doesn't know exactly what it's called. How does one call the perfect serenity of falling asleep cradled to a death god's chest? Light doesn't know, but he knows that Ryuk will never turn to ashes to save him.
A chunk of Light's life is ripped out when he abdicates. When the memories tear through him, he screams. And then he's calm again. The game is still played by his rules. There is nothing to regret, not even the privacy that he loses again. There is nothing he has to hide from Ryuk, nothing at all, and he proves it as soon as the door shuts behind him. One hand on Ryuk's broad chest, another hooking over the god's neck to pull him down, Light swipes his tongue over Ryuk's lip. And suddenly there is an overabundance of thick slippery flesh in his mouth, moving, slithering, filling him to the brim. Months' worth of loneliness poured into this single action raise a surge of exaltation in Light's chest. His hands wander, though they can't really reach anything besides the arms - Ryuk is just too big. Ryuk's thumb presses into Light's mouth when they part, and Light feels Ryuk's cold breath on his neck. The long blue tongue leaves a wet trail along Light's jugular. Light tries to lean into the kiss again and jumps from sudden pain - his own tongue catches on Ryuk's tooth. The taste of iron in his spit, Light's hand jerks instinctively to clap over his lips.
"Sorry," comes a whisper. Palm still over his mouth, Light shakes his head - no apology needed. When the coolness of Ryuk's tongue envelopes his chin, he closes his eyes.
Forehead to forehead, they breathe noisily together, and one of them smiles while the other doesn't have to.
"I'm sorry too. I have no apples with me," Light whispers, and they both chuckle.
Light brings no apples with him on the next day as well, too preoccupied with L. L this, L that. The man exudes some arcane vulnerability that shines through his armor like a patch of naked flesh. Light steps out into the rain to reach him. Bending over backwards to keep alive the faint fire between them. Last time Light was this soaked was when… Ah, right. The memory of the city sprawled beneath Ryuk's wings flashes through him. And then L touches him just like Ryuk does, casting Light in the abyss of confusion.
It ends with L's death. It brings certainty into Light's life. The sight of the man's closing eyes burns into the underside of Light's lids, like a photo effect. He almost levitates from contemptuous joy as he struts down the corridor like down the red carpet. It's as if rose petals swirl in his wake as the familiar shadow darkens the corner of his room, and he lets Ryuk's hands cradle him, undress him, love him. The rough finger pads slide over his nipples, followed by the tongue, and a fire is born in Light's loins. Ryuk kneels in front of him - to think, a god kneeling before a human! - to nudge Light's legs apart and perform the dangerous feat of taking Light into his mouth. Biting his lip, Light prepares for pain. It never comes. Only the sweet, slippery coolness of Ryuk's tongue, teasing the head, inhuman muscle coiling around the shaft like a snake, pumping up and down. The victory, the pride, the fucking decadent eroticism of having just seen a man die - it all bursts inside Light like a volley of sparkles. He whimpers, hips bucking to meet Ryuk's movements. He is not fully aware of the way Ryuk suddenly turns him over - with all the ease of a child handling a toy it is particularly fond of - and positions him into an obscenely open position. With his ass turned upwards, Light realizes what is about to happen, but Ryuk gives him too little time to prepare himself. The staggeringly long tongue first envelopes Light's sack, then slithers over the taint and snakes into the hole with dexterity Light never expected from a creature so big and… uncaring of its own actions? Ryuk shows him that he does, in fact, care by filling Light gently, flesh so soft Light could almost imagine Ryuk's tongue turning into liquid. The coolness, the wetness, the sensation of slow expansion are almost too much to bear, and Light can't restrain a grunt when the tongue suddenly twists inside his ass like a cork-screw. Gasping, Light draws back to impale more of himself on that amazing tongue. Ryuk's fingers play with Light's balls, with the shaft, fully erect by now, and then everything stops. Stops the expansion, the penetration, and Light is suddenly empty. He whines in protest, looks behind himself, and is met with a sight that sprouts the first sapling of alarm in him. He finally sees it. Sees Ryuk's cock in all its glory, an enormous organ that Light could easily imagine on a horse. White bleeding into blue, it sways as Ryuk repositions himself. Upon Light comes down a realization that he wants it, all of it, inside him. A fire rampant in him dries his lips, and for a second he contemplates begging. Ryuk prevents Light's pride from shattering by saying: "The manicure set, Light. Where is the manicure set?"
"In...in the drawer of the nightstand…" Light suddenly realizes why, and a wave of gratitude washes over him.
"Just for you, Light."
Scissors too small for Ryuk's fingers still manage to clip three of the formidable claws, and the death god pumps some of Light's lubricant onto his hand. Light's asshole clenches in delight at the sight of that, and he feels a few beats of pulse run through all of him. He loses all air in him when two of those fingers enter him - Ryuk wastes no time to fuck around - and press on the small mound of his prostate. Through Light's mind shoots a question - where did Ryuk learn about this delicate part of human anatomy? - but it flares and dies like a spark hitting water surface the moment Ryuk applies more pressure. Light thrashes, and screams, and loses the last shreds of his composure while the undercurrent of quiet, pre-linguistic thought in him notes that this is not at all how Light imagined being in bed with a man. With Ryuk there is no clash of egos, no competition. With Ryuk it just...is.
The fingers spread apart, stretching Light's asshole in a way that brings more pleasure than pain. The premonition of agony upon penetration nestles within Light uncomfortably, spoiling the delight of current fondling. Ryuk must be aware of that, for he pets Light's ass and belly like those of a puppy, captures a kiss on the small of Light's back and whispers: "If you're not ready, then I won't…"
"Do it!" It is ridiculous how much like a child he sounds to himself. Plunging headlong into danger, he is somehow sure of a hand that will cushion his fall. He grits his teeth, and then he laughs. Light Yagami counting on someone. Lured into a dark tunnel by a dark deity. It's a fleeting delusion, he knows because distancing himself is his strong suit, but right now, in this moment, it's all that matters.
Ryuk adds the third finger, and it's enough to make Light feel well-fucked, the combined thickness filling him up quite nicely. He tightens around them, and for a few minutes the world is completely dark as Light presses his face into the pillow, his whines dying against it. Ryuk's tongue drags down his spine and teases the occupied opening with feather-light touch, making Light clench again. Ryuk's gentleness is overwhelming, insane, and it mystifies Light like the secret of dark matter, or the land before human history, all the allure of the unknown when he was a child. He can't help but think of L, the few seconds of silent wonderment that quivered between them, and he gladly forgets them when Ryuk's fingers pull out to give way to something more tangible. Light takes his pillow in his teeth, treating Ryuk to more of his spread thighs and tightened bollocks when the death god's hand strokes down his back in wordless question. Yes, damn it, yes. The head pushes into him, and inside Light flashes a kaleidoscope of sensations. The pain comes as an expected guest, stretching and filling him to full capacity. Light Yagami does the impossible - he groans, groans so loudly he claps a hand over his mouth, thinking of all the people in the headquarters that could hear. Ryuk pulls back almost instantly, not using even a third of his full length, and Light wonders for the hundredth time where the hell this death god got so much mercy from. Tenderness swells inside Light like a rolling tide, he fists the sheets and starts whispering. A few seconds pass before he is aware of uttering Ryuk's name again and again, and, seemingly from a parallel reality, comes Ryuk's hand, knuckles brushing Light's cheek. The benevolent god who swore not to help Light to build a new perfect world kisses Light's nape, fondles his cock and balls in ways Light has never imagined, fucks him long and good, and he comes, comes blissfully and copiously into his god's palm, and soon feels the liquid coolness spreading inside of him. The only downside of fucking a death god turns out to be the cold. Light, on the contrary, is wet and hot after the exercise, as though shaken by fever, and Ryuk cools him by wrapping his absurdly long limbs around Light. The human god and the death god rest together, on one bed, tangled in each other with a comfortable silence filling the space between them. Before Light falls into his triumphant dreams, he feels Ryuk's lips on his forehead, and smiles.
Light is curious about Ryuk's feelings about him and Misa disappearing behind the closed door now more often than ever, and broods while exercising control over a creature whose love is so much unlike Ryuk's. Misa's subservience is infinitely less attractive than Ryuk's quiet nonchalantness, and quite often she is given generous amounts of money to let her marinate in the world of shopping and monthly gatherings for a chat as shallow as Misa's cinematic partners' intelligence. There isn't a thing she wouldn't do for Light in bed, but she can't give the sensation of having the life sucked out of him by a kiss so dark he feels he is lost in all this blackness. Light has to skimp on bed endeavours with both to have Misa assured she is the only person in his life, and it makes his trysts with Ryuk all the more tantalizing. He feeds Ryuk and apple, and the death god is seduced in one more way.
Light's reign of terror creates a closed paradise for the three of years stretching from L's death to 2012 are the golden era. With the whole world at his feet and a death god his lover, Light is elevated to divinity himself. The words that Misa is so keen on hearing never slip between Light and Ryuk, as both do not care for them. Instead, between them there is a dark fire Light delights in playing with. Sharp teeth and inhuman strength threaten to destroy Light every night, and every morning he is still alive, now reciprocating Ryuk's touch. Ryuk never voices his preferences, and so Light has no idea if his hand cupping Ryuk's face brings any pleasure. He doesn't care, really, what matters to him is the need to do it. The coldness of their hearts lets them rest comfortably in each other's arms, and it takes no effort at all to imagine that this is forever.
Light is at the top until he isn't, and the fortress he's built to protect Kira's identity shatters like a mirror hit by a stone. The dream sifts through Light's fingers, and in a short time he goes from terror to rage to denial. L's legacy lives on, reaching him from the grave. Ah, but he knew L wouldn't leave him alone so easily. Back then he felt the duality of his heart's preference, now all he feels is hatred. And love, and love, God, so much love. For himself, for the new world, for…
"Ryuk! You're all I've got to rely on! Please write the names down!"
The death god observes Light from his inhuman height, so unreachable now that Light is at his feet, and in his eyes Light sees a small reflection of himself. Light's last hope, Light's salvation. His hand reach to grab the body that embraced his at night. The memory of ashes left in Rem's stead assure Light that gods are indeed capable of compassion and self-sacrifice, and Ryuk's judgment has undoubtedly changed by this time. Ryuk will save him and die, and Light will mourn, and let the hot tears suffocate him every day until natural death takes him, but that'll come later. His downfall is still reversible, because his triumph is a matter of the seconds it will take Ryuk to write down the names.
The silence rings under the ceiling, and then comes the death god's voice.
"I told you in the very beginning that I would be the one writing your name in the notebook when you die. That is the rule between the death god who brings the notebook into the human realm and the first human who picks up the notebook."
Something in the very construction of the universe sags and crashes, burying Light under the wreckage. Before Light's inner eye parade the glory and the dreams of the last years, rippling and dissolving and rushing to the horizon. A feeling quivers inside Light, a feeling that has been forgotten and stashed away into a dark corner of his mind many years ago, when he first picked up the strange notebook that fell from the sky. Perhaps it's the trophy that the death god has taken from him back then, foreseeing this moment even before their eyes met. Cast into the pit of common sinners, Light realizes that there are no words that can restore the torn thread that connected Light the human and Ryuk the death god. Rules. That's understandable, but since when has either of them played by rules?
And surely, Light dies, for writing the name of a person in the Death Note means inevitable death, but, against all rules, the ache that rips the life out of him seems to be coming from something different than the Death Note.