"What is tolerance? It is the consequence of humanity. We are all formed of frailty and error; let us pardon reciprocally each other's folly – that is the first law of nature."

~Voltaire

When Light woke up the sky was still pitch black.

The silence of the room, interrupted by the occasional creak or breeze from the outside world, was preferable to sleep. Especially since his dreamscape was inhabited by a child.

A dead one, at that.

Ayato hadn't "woken up" yet, but Light couldn't help but stir in bed at the prospect of sharing a body. Thoughts that weren't meant to be intruded on were suddenly suspect to criticism and his line of thought would have to shift entirely, entirely, to accommodate the presence of this stubborn little brat and his new organ. The longer he was awake, the more time he had to mull over it, and the more ruffled he became.

Simply put, Light had no room for inefficiency in his life. Paranoia–

A scowl pasted itself onto his haggard face.

Paranoia was… something new, to say the least. Normal people didn't have to deal with it, but he was far from normal now.

Regardless, paranoia was a worthless emotion.

Never in his life did Light ever have to sneak around. In a sense, everyone already did the legwork for him. Throughout his life, it seemed as though the world was willing to excuse Light's eccentricities as long as he performed, like a show dog shaking hands and playing fetch for a treat.

Paranoia, he thought with disgust, means that he has crossed far beyond what is considered acceptable. He was in the red, further. Plunging into the abyssal depths of the ocean.

To add, this paranoia was not just external; Ayato himself was picking at Light's every action. It wasn't enough that the real world would shoot him down if it got even a hint of his true nature, his own mind had a built-in conscious to question the previously unquestionable.

A little miffed, Light pulled himself out of bed, starkly aware of the pitch-black sky, and shuffled to the bathroom with nary a sound. Ayato's presence was, for the lack of a better word, noticeable. Conspicuous. Yes, that described it.

It was just barely there, but you felt it and you despised it.

Having the boy watch him created a mood that Light couldn't quite pinpoint, whether for the lack of his own emotional intelligence or simply because there had been no person in this position before to have given it a name. It felt akin to a bubbling, a festering. Like the feeling of lice crawling on one's scalp. He knew Ayato was there, yes, but there was the perpetual knowledge that there was really something there that irked him.

Reaching the bathroom, Light made sure that the house was silent before entering the room and locking it. There wasn't anyone watching, now. Even Ayato was out of commission for the time being. That meant time to explore, to experiment.

He had a feeling that time like this was going to be a rarity.

With enough time, Light knew that he could figure this out. This little setback changed nothing. Light was too adamant, too clever to let something as debilitating as this affect him.

Light stared into the mirror, the bathroom light casting an eerie, almost sickly glow on his skin. His hands, grasping onto the bathroom sink with perhaps a bit too much pressure to the point that he could almost feel it crack with his fingertips, anchored him and his thoughts. A splash of water later and his mind was as clear as he could get it.

He found himself glaring at his face, somewhat expectant. What was it– a kakuja? No… a kakugan. That was the odd sclera that covered his eye while in that fight.

A grimace worked its way onto his face.

Leaning closer towards the mirror, he tried to hone in on the same thoughts that he had had during the fight. A few moments later, and he was left with no reaction.

Perhaps it was emotionally motivated? He tried to invoke some type of emotion, anything, but Light was as stoic as he usually was. He anticipated that wouldn't work, he was too impassive to take on any form of concern on the turn of a dime, for no reason. Light was a good actor, but he wasn't that good of an actor; he couldn't fool himself easily.

The only time that he could muster up something truly convincing was when he himself had been in danger.

Fear… fear? How could he create fear from nothing? This was his house, he was safe.

That left one thing: hunger.

The only other time he had summoned the kakuja was when he was in the hospital, eating. It was barely noticeable, like feeling a raindrop hit your eye. A split-second of something, and then nothing.

With that, he closed his eyes. He tried to imagine something appetizing. At first, nothing came to mind. After all, Light wasn't a very materialistic person. Anything he ate was always fine, just fine. However, as his thoughts drifted to his earlier encounter with the… dove, the smell of a freshly killed corpse entered his mind.

He honed in on that thought, feeling saliva dribble out of the corner of his mouth with a tinge of disgust, and, as he opened his eyes, there it was.

A single black eye.

Without a word, he turned off the lights, violently wiped his face against his sleeve, and went back to bed.

Nightmares don't last days, Light chided himself.

Light crept down the stairs quietly as the clatter of dishes and pans filled the kitchen. It was later in the morning now, though still fairly dark outside, and he had gotten up after being unable to sleep again.

Well, it was more like the small child that lived in his head forced him to get up (for the second time). Of course, he couldn't tell anyone that if he wanted to live outside a mental asylum, so here he was.

Brilliant.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he peered out into the living room and noted the emptiness in the house. His father's presence was, like a ghost's, ephemeral.

Sayu's disappearance was more unexpected (had she not come home yet?), but, upon the sight of his mother washing dishes, he figured he could bear to deal with a slightly quieter morning.

"It smells like a fucking dump in here."

Slightly. Just slightly.

"Good morning, Mother," Light greeted, departing from his hiding space behind the stairs. Eager to avoid addressing Ayato's presence at all, he staggered towards the kitchen (being sure to play up his injury, even if it felt weeks behind him) and went to sit down at the dining table.

With an exasperated sigh, his mother scolded, "Light, would it hurt to not act like your father and sleep in for a day?" She shot a pointed look his way, not quite intimidating but something between that and motherly affection. Light couldn't help but stare at his mother, who was blissfully unaware of his glaring, in wonder. This kind of casual affection wasn't normal, so why the change of tune? "The one time you get in trouble and you can't even be bothered to rest. I swear up and down that Sayu and I are the only ones who know how to relax in this house!"

"Love you too, Mom," Light responded, a bit of cheek mixed in his words. He leaned into the seat, waiting for a response as the clatter of dishes rumbled on. Maybe if he played more into the conversation, he could find out why she was being so affectionate with him. She couldn't be that worried about him; his parents were more or less confident in his ability to take punches. If anything, she should expect Light to deal with similar situations in the future, given that he wanted to be a police officer.

They never speak like this.

Sayu was always the conversationalist of the two Yagami children.

"Oh, boo," she complained, her tone too warm to be taken seriously. Light laughed, playing along with the joke. The normality was almost there, seemingly in reach, but it was tinged with something bitter. The outline is there: Mother is sincere and Light smiles along, like always, but there's a sour taste present, like poison. She continues, "You know what I mean."

Ayato made a noise akin to a wretch (Light couldn't imagine what else it could have been) and ruined his train of thought in one fell swoop.

"You done with the sappy shit? We gotta get moving, dumbass! Save the 'human necessities' for when you have a meal in you."

Obstinately unwilling to address Ayato in the slightest, Light pushed himself out of the chair and set to making coffee, even if just to sate the hunger that had just barely registered at Ayato's mention. While he was curious about how the drink was consumable to him in the first place, it was soon becoming apparent that asking questions that no-one knew the answer to was a pointless endeavor.

It was better to simply focus on the issues at hand.

In his forced, weak gait, Light ambled past his mother and flicked the coffee machine on. He made a cup as he usually did, only leaving it black this time.

"Hmm? I thought you liked your coffee with milk, Light?" his mother, perceptive as ever, commented as she finished up the last few dishes. Who was he to doubt the eye of a housewife? He was sure she got her kicks through gossiping with the neighborhood rumor mill while he and Sayu were out of the house. Mothers like his were more akin to spies.

"I just figured," Light started, swirling the black liquid in his cup slowly. He decided he would take a jab at her heartstrings, maybe poke around to see what she was really thinking, "–that I'd try something different. You take change… the ability to just do things for granted, you know?"

Something melancholy drifted into his mother's features as she turned to face him, hands knitted together.

"Right…" she drifted off, eyes darting away from Light's face. "Do you want to talk about that, Light? Me… and your father–well. Your father loves you, Light. He just isn't here to show it… but we can talk about this together. Just you and I."

"Hmm?" Light's attention was piqued. This was… unexpected. He didn't think this had to do with his feelings about the assault. Instead, he diverted the conversation upon seeing his mother's true intent, "But what about Sayu? Does she even know what's happening?"

"Chop chop! Pick up the pace, shithead."

Light's eye twitched by the slightest amount, but his question remained hanging in the air. He took a quiet slurp from his cup and recoiled slightly. The enhanced taste made his coffee bad. Horrendous, really.

"She's been staying with friends for a few days. It's been… tough without you here. I know it doesn't feel like it all the time, but you're a constant in her life– our lives, Light. She depends on you just like she depends on me and your father," his mother confessed, eyes avoiding him with a touch of honesty in her tone. Light slowly digested this information, mulling over her words.

He didn't quite feel like an important part of their lives anymore. This new… diet wasn't remotely controllable. It was omnipresent, always lurking in the recesses of his mind. It was the first thing he was aware of when he woke up that morning, and Light wouldn't be surprised if he went to sleep with the same delusions of cannibalism.

Was it even cannibalism anymore? Was he even human?

Did he even have a place being here?

Swallowing, he pushed those thoughts deep, deep into the back of his mind and worked to keep in the present.

"I mean it, Light," his mother urged, tone ever-so-slightly desperate, yet not pushing. Patient, he decided. Unlike his father, who was like a bastion of anger, frustration, and pride directed at a single target, his mother was a rock: slowly worn down by the ocean waves but always patient, always present. "I'm always here to talk to. It's easy to let these things go, Light. I do it all the time, just to let you and your sister have freedom, but I need you to remember that I'm still here to be your mother."

Light's hardened expression slackened at her words. Legitimacy like this wasn't normal. Father was always gone, Mother simply stood silent, Sayu squawked and strutted but never said anything meaningful, and Light smiled.

He always smiled.

A frown wormed its way onto his face, and he didn't know whether to blame the cocktail of drugs still residing in his system, the presence of a second personality, or his newfound species status for the absolute rollercoaster of emotions barreling through his mind.

His mother looked a bit unsettled, perhaps surprised, at the presence of anything other than a smile on Light's face. Maybe she was expecting a scoff, for him to shrug it off and for the normality to return; that's what Dad would do. He'd beam, shrug his shoulders, and say "That's just a part of the job, dear."

It was like clockwork.

Just– Why wasn't the same standard applied to him? Light was always treated like an adult, he was the exception. He was taken onto his father's cases, he was an honors student, he was getting a free ride to To-Oh.

What about him suggested that he needed to be coddled?

Locking down his emotions, he attempted to escape the situation with as much suaveness as he usually carried.

"I'll be fine, Mom," Light waved off the statement with a slight grin as he hobbled towards the stairs again. While he absolutely detested the taste of the coffee, he took a good swig if only to just get his senses back together. "I always am, and nothing's going to change that."

If she had anything else to say, Light wasn't there to hear it. He walked up the stairs with as much speed as he was willing to show to her unsuspecting gaze.

Light smiles until he doesn't.

With some prodding from Ayato, Light caves into the younger boy's demands and leaves the house early, feeding an excuse to his mother about being cramped up in a bed and wanting to get some fresh air.

It was easy to get out of the house, most likely because Light was nearly an adult. Sayu had to whine and beg to get out of the house, but Mother was less worried to let Light out… with a cell phone in hand, of course. She worried about him, just too much, now.

Too much for her own good. He didn't need eyes on him, not now.

Navigating the streets during the early morning was eerily similar to his experience from the night before, the sidewalks mimicking the emptiness that his midnight escapade featured all too closely. With all the silence, one could hear the drop of a pin. Though, for Light, that may be all too easy now.

Ayato helpfully supplied a list of reprimands, with his lovely sailor's mouth flair, and berated him for the previous night's affairs.

"–and we're not doing that ever again. Yoshimura was absolutely right about me being an idiot, and I'm not about to die twice so the old man can jerk himself off about it, alright?" Ayato growled as Anteiku came into sight.

"What did you do last time to tick him off anyway?" Light asked, still somewhat disoriented at the thought of communicating with someone in his head. Ayato seemed to be a very loose cannon, for lack of a better word, and it felt a little undignified to have an anger-prone brat chiding him for taking action.

Better than being dead.

Surprisingly enough, Ayato refused to answer and went back to his silence.

Weird kid.

At least he shut up. Light was beginning to treasure his moments of silence more and more as the boy kept talking.

Light walked up the steps to the glass door of the building, hesitating to knock and vying to peek inside instead. He was a little anxious to touch the glass at all, being still very unaware of his strength and how to control it.

Luckily, a brown-haired man with a rather obtuse nose and obnoxious pompadour made eye contact with him while wiping down the counter and hurried to open the door. The man approached with deft speed and Light felt somewhat inadequately dressed given his casual morning attire: a sweatshirt and jeans.

The door squealed open, and the man immediately took a whiff at him.

Ghoul.

"New guy, right?" he asked, expression distrustful. The ghoul scratched at his face a little, shifting into a more neutral look. "Yoshimura wasn't wrong at all… ya smell mostly like Ayato."

"I–" Light could barely process the interaction happening before him; being smelled was far removed from his range of thought. Despite this, he quickly pulled himself together and bowed, "I'm sorry for intruding so early, my name is Yagami Light and–"

"Whoah, hold it right there, buddy," the ghoul raised his hands defensively, and Light felt somewhat irritated at being interrupted. His charisma wasn't winning him any favors so far. The pompadoured ghoul gave him a slight smile, still unsure, and held a thumbs up, "No need to be formal, we're gonna be working together for a while. If… if Yoshimura says you're good, then you're good."

The ghoul looked uncomfortable despite those words. Light couldn't help but feel that irritation deepen, knowing that Yoshimura's word didn't mean much despite Ayato's stark reassurance.

"Come on in, I'm Koma Enji," Koma introduced himself, finally letting Light pass him into the café and closing the door behind them. While Light took in his surroundings, Koma returned to wiping down the tables diligently; without looking up at him, Koma questioned Light, "You know the rules and all, right? If Irimi were here– uh, one of the other workers here, she'd make sure to beat those into you. I don't blame her, the whole situation kinda depends on everyone doing their part, ya know?"

Despite seeming completely engrossed in the task at hand, Koma's threat carried through to Light as clear as day.

If you mess up, we're all dead. You're done after that.

"Don't worry," Light reassured, opting to take a seat at the bar area. "An honors student taking a part-time job? That's nothing out of the ordinary, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "You catch on quick, kid. That'll get you places… or maybe not. Depends on if it's a good place," Koma responded as he pressed a cloth into a stubborn stain on the countertop. Finally winning against the dust and grime, Koma swung his head up and met Light's eyes head-on.

"Wanna meet him?" Koma asked, head nodding towards the door to the back room he had initially met Yoshimura in. Shifting slightly, Koma took on a more serious tone, "Boss said you had an 'incident'… and it'd be kinda suspicious if you started working the day after you got home, you know? I think it'd be best if you just lay low for now and talk to Yoshimura-san about getting a 'real' job when this blows over. Maybe then I can teach you the ropes around the public front."

"Alright. Thank you for your hospitality then, Koma-san," Light replied cordially, bowing. It was worth an attempt to be polite, even if his prodding wasn't working the way he wanted it to.

With that, Light bid his farewell and set his sights on meeting with Yoshimura again, possibly to get more answers about this whole ordeal.

The room now empty, Koma muttered, expression embarrassed:

"God, I'm not that old… am I?"

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Questions

Is Koma right to not trust Light? Explain your reasoning, anything is accepted!

How will Ayato react to coming home?

Can Light truly cope with losing his humanity? How can he deal with the tolls of taking life and fighting constantly against unknown forces?