A plot bunny that has been hopping around for about a year. I've been too terrified to write it because Light and L are such a difficult characters to portray. I hope I do them justice.

.

In the Kanto region of Tokyo Japan, seated on a swing in a local park was a figure. This figure was invisible to those handful of children around him, complaining as they are led home by parents for the end of the day. A young girl passes the man, who stares at her unwaveringly. Reaching out to brush back a loose curl. She shivers, thinks nothing of it.

In five minutes she will cross the street with her mother and get run over by a truck. The future she envisions of being a dancer left unfulfilled. Five minutes pass, she lives. Because around the corner seated at his desk in his bedroom. Yagami Light interfered.

This figure, Harry Potter and Master of Death, rests his chin on a fist. Watching the sunset die behind trees and houses. He was dressed in his thin black silken suit, silver Hallows pendant pinned to his blazer's collar as a sign of status to reapers in the area.

A streetlight a yard behind blinks on as night time fast approaches. Shadowing the swing set.

His shadow was noticeably absent.

Wings beat above him, Harry doesn't look up.

"Master," Ryuk lands opposite, grin grotesque. "How goes your, heh, travels?"

"Rome was nice," Harry said, gaze idle and profoundly irked. "But after living as long as I have, it was nothing haven't seen before. Greed, murder, sex, politics, affairs, within a day I wondered why everyone was so surprised at their eventual demise."

"Yes," Ryuk agrees for the sake of keeping his head on his shoulders. After three centuries of being in Head of Power, Harry had eventually stopped thinking twice before acting out on his anger and committing needlessly hideous violence. There is only one thing Reapers fear more than life, and that is death. It only took a critical hit to Reaper population for them to wake up and adopt grovelling as their second primary function, first being sass. "Humanity does like playing victim when their consequences finally come running."

Harry snorts, "I've felt the severe increase in souls entering the Veil." Veil being the passageway to Judgement's abode. Where their souls will be weighed to see if they deserve Heaven, Hell or reincarnation. "Does this have to do with your new past time, Ryuk?"

If Ryuk had the physical means, he would be sweating. "Heh."

Harry's gaze is unflickering. "I see. You know, there is also a dramatic surge of life as well. We're loosing our clientele."

Ryuk hadn't known Harry started caring about such things again. "I apologise, Master," Harry didn't look angry, so he wasn't about to start worrying about decapitation. "I was bored, you see – "

"I know all about boredom, Ryuk. Don't go feeling special," Harry kicks out his long legs, surging to his feet in a lift of air. Black slippers untouched by the dirt ground, he pulls himself to his full height. Almost reaching Ryuk's chin.

Souls were the most powerful entities in all dimensions and universes and Harry being the Master of death held full responsibilities of handling them. His growth spurt was the smallest on the list of anatomical changes.

"I'm currently grappling with the displeasure of whether or not I should care about this," Harry explains, materializing the broad-bladed sword of Gryffindor in his hand. Ryuk can't contain his flinch when the tip lands in-between his eyes. "Your little fun has stripped the globe of thousands of potential souls. Power that keeps me afloat in this ludicrous job of mine. Of course," he sighs, "you can't even begin to appreciate the situation you've put me in. You self-proclaimed Death Gods are ridiculous. Satisfy boredom by any means, you lot. You're all so incapable, sometimes I feel as though we're speaking different languages to each other."

Every decade or so I have to face some half-cocked wizard, witch or muggle wanting to take my job. Always powered up and stupid. Leading to some very unpleasant situations where they're entirely possessed by greed and nearly destroy a continent. Now, being the reasonable fellow that I am I stop that from occurring despite all the souls I could gain. I'm not a fan of overeating."

He presses the tip of his sword against Ryuk's skin. Black blood resembling the consistency of tar trickles down and beads into the holes of his nose.

"However," Harry continues drily, "at this current stage of time I feel no threat towards being killed by some mere mortal. Support me with your opinion, Ryuk. Should I let Yagami Light keep on killing or should I be the Master of Death and damned well do my job at keeping balance in the spirit world."

Not quite grasping what Harry wanted exactly – not his fault, nobody ever does - Ryuk says something along the lines of: "Do whatever you like!"

"I see," Harry considers this for a long, long while. "Yes, I think I shall." And without another spoken word, he dematerialises the sword, lets his hand fall back into his pocket and turns on his heel. Vanishing with a pop.

It was all so confusing, Ryuk stands there gawping. Hearing the thunder clouds roll in and rain begin its decent.

.

Two eyes bore into Light's when he turns around at the sound of a pop. The depths of their emerald green, glowing in toxicity peers right into him, through him, as though Light had fallen on his knees in breathless agony and bared his soul to the man.

The man, Light retains a shudder. He was ghoulish. Features sharp with skin so pale it looked like he had died and dressed for his own funeral. He tilts his head to the side, leaning in so close Light should be able to feel his breath. He can't.

Light knows who this is.

A God of Death, the thing he had been waiting for.

The God smiles, eyes flashing. "Yagami Light," he says and Light envies the power it carries. The way he is able to make him feel small and human. "You have something of mine, mind explaining your intentions are with it?"

Eerily calm Light rocks up off his chair to face the Death God head on. The God tracks him with his eyes, seeming to study every movement and weighing them.

"So this Death Note is yours, eh?" he says, speaking carefully. Notebook heavy, he picks it up and flips open the page to show the God his actions. Prepared for judgement. The man takes it, eyebrow arched.

"Nice kill count," he snaps the book shut, "Should this impress me?"

Light smiles, "I suppose being a God, human conventions fly over your head. That kill count as you so gently put it is me conquering the evil that's plagued my society for too long."

"Evil?"

"Murderers, rapists, paedophiles," Light explains impatiently. "The sort who jeer at people's weaknesses. All of them, they've gotten comfortable. Shielded behind this broken thing my father calls the justice system," he can't help but snort.

Looking away to scowl back at his memories. Of the men that almost raped that woman, the boys bullying a kid, the people he's seen walking to school exacting brutality to those around them. Not fearing the consequences because who's gonna do anything in a society that's too afraid of stepping up against these assholes?

Light found it near overwhelmingly irritating. How pathetic his society has fallen.

An itch in the world he can't help but scratch at.

"These days anybody can get away with anything given lack of evidence, extenuating circumstances or being cooperative. I hear it all the time. In the news, from friends at school, everywhere. Injustice. I'm sick of it."

"Your purpose, putting it plainly," the God settles back on the edge of his bed. Beginning to look intrigued. Light bites down the eager smile. "Is to play Judgement on society in an attempt to," he rolls a hand, "fix it."

"Not attempt," Light says, "I will fix it."

The man gives a laugh with the crack of thunder outside. "Such a childish dream, so stupid and ignorant at how temporary this will be," he stops laughing, "Extraordinary."

Light calms himself, "I'm setting out to make a point. Nobody in this world is held accountable for their crimes, not really. But I'll change that. Evil," he snarls, "this whole damn disease that's been rotting my world is getting pulled down one by one – by me. People have seemed to have forgotten what right and wrong is," stepping forwards he meets the God's bright eyes. Determined. "You chose me to use this Death Note. So I'll become," a God, he couldn't say. Not in front of an actual one, "their new leader."

He laughs again, uncaring to how Light's chest tightens in tempered frustration, "Brilliant. You remind me of someone I once knew. A stupid little man with dreams larger than himself and because of that, I killed him."

Light takes a breath, stilling himself. He's said is peace, explained his purpose, now it's time to face the facts. "Is that why you're here? To kill me because I dream big?"

The God aims his piercing eyes at him again, "You interest me. Rare. I don't much care for watching people's lives play out, everything's all too repetitive and similar. Predictable you lot are," he tells Light. "Even now I can see this whole shebang you have going on is going to blow up in your face. What you're setting out to do here is only temporary, you must understand. You seem to be an intelligent little cretin, so surely you can comprehend how your actions will shape future criminals actions. You're not conquering them you're educating them in ways to be smarter and avoid the media."

"When that day comes and they begin to hide from me," Light narrows his eyes in a tight smile, "I'll already be ten steps ahead. I'm already beginning to have followers. Once my empire rises and I have people in the government, in places I can't reach myself, I'll hunt them down."

"Bit fragile of a system you have there."

"It's in the works," Light swivels his chair around so he could sit facing the God. Surprised at how casual it felt. "Have I earned your permission to stay alive?"

"Cut down the numbers a bit," the God says, "and I won't kill you. I'm curious to see how all this plays out."

Though a bit unhappy, Light agrees.

"Oh and, I didn't choose you to have the Death Note," he says. Standing up to examine his bookshelf. Extremely mundane.

"What?"

"Everything that has happened up until now is because one of my Death God's dropped the Notebook I had given him. He was bored and was searching for a means to entertain himself," at Light's blank stare he explains. "Ryuk wasn't one of my creations. He's apart of my predecessor's batch. Imbecilic bunch. The embarrassment of Reaper society."

"What are you, exactly?" Light asks. Things not starting to add up.

"Harry James Potter," he says, switching to a foreign accent and bowing with the grace of Royalty ."Master of Death. Owner of all Death Notes, Souls, the Undead, and Reapers."

"Master of Death," Light repeats. Growing profoundly interested. All boredom he had felt for the past seventeen years of his life eviscerated before his very eyes.

Harry grins, all teeth. "Hello."

.

Please review :D