Sayu and I nodded in unison, creeping up behind Light. He was seated at the dining table, unsuspecting. Three, two, one . . .
"Happy birthday, Light!" we both cheered, popping confetti from behind him, effectively startling him into almost jumping out of his chair.
Ryuk started cackling from his spot on the banister. So he likes jokes at Light's expense, huh? I wasn't sure whether to consider it rude or amusing.
Light turned around and glared at the two of us. "You're both terrible."
"We know!" Sayu cheered.
"Mikko, you're corrupting Sayu," Light said in mock offense.
"Wow, rude." I ruffled Light's hair, getting confetti caught in it. Light huffed in mild annoyance, but he let me do it anyway.
"There goes your perfect hair, Light," Ryuk snickered.
"Anyway, we're going for ice cream! My treat," I announced, spreading my arms wide.
"Sweet," Sayu grinned.
"Literally."
"Oh my God, Mikko. It's still winter."
By the time we got to the cafe, it was already almost noon.
"It's . . . surprisingly sunny today," Light commented, fiddling with his jacket sleeves.
"Exactly why we're getting ice cream instead of something else. Are you two gonna have brownies or waffle cone?"
"Waffle cone," Light and Sayu said at the same time.
I turned to the cashier. "Two waffle cones and one brownie ice cream, please."
"What flavours?"
"One of the waffle cones should be strawberry, and the other two should be cookie dough." The cashier nodded and started getting it ready after asking me to take a seat.
"Cookie dough?" Light quirked an eyebrow as I sat down.
"It's supposed to be pretty good," I shrugged. "Thought it would make a good birthday treat."
"I'm surprised they made it an ice cream flavour, though," Light appraised.
"You got me strawberry, right?" Sayu asked eagerly.
I ruffled her hair. "Of course."
Sayu pumped her fist, muttering a quiet "yes" under her breath.
"What about me?" Ryuk asked, nudging Light.
I turned to Light. "So, birthday boy, Mister Num―"
"If you finish that title, I'm walking out."
Sayu laughed. "Light's taken away your teasing rights."
"Awfully bold of you to assume he controls my rights," I said, tagging on, "Mister Number One Nationwide."
Light let out a long suffering sigh, but made no move to actually get up.
"As I was saying," I continued smugly, "how's being eighteen treating you?"
Light looked me dead in the eye. "It's exhausting and it isn't even noon, thanks to you two."
"You're welcome!"
"It's alright, you'll get your returns on your birthday," Light just said, staring at his fingernails. "With interest."
"That puts me in more trouble!" Sayu protested. "You two are almost birthday twins anyway!"
Light dropped a hand on both of our heads, ruffling our hair just as the ice creams arrived at our table.
Sayu huffed, picking up her cone and taking a lick from it, pointedly ignoring Light. I reached for my own cup of ice cream―
"Where's my spoon?"
It was in Light's hand.
"Light, you can't eat an ice cream cone with a spoon, lick it like a normal human being," I demanded, trying to reach for the spoon, which Light held adamantly out of my reach.
"Well, what if I prefer eating it like this?" Light cocked an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair.
"I don't have a spoon and I actually need one!"
"You could get another one," Light said smoothly.
"I could also smash that ice cream in your face."
"Or you could smash your face on his face," Sayu commented airily, hiding behind her ice cream.
Light fell out of his chair, only just managing to keep his ice cream intact―and let go of the spoon in the meantime, giving me the opportunity to snatch it.
And then what Sayu said registered. "S-Sayu!" I buried my face in my hands, absolutely positive I was flushed with embarrassment.
Thankfully, Light seemed to be as embarrassed as I was, since he was still on the floor and his face looked just as red as mine felt.
Indignantly, I shoved the spoon into my ice cream and took a bite. "What even goes on in your mind, Sayu?"
Sayu tapped her chin. "What goes on in my mind . . . ? Hideki Ryuga."
"Pssht." Light scoffed, having gotten back onto his chair. "And I suppose your vivid imagination would apply to him, too?"
This time, it was Sayu's turn to sputter. "Light! I don't―I don't think that way about him! He's just super handsome and sweet and angelic and perfect, I mean, have you seen his smile―"
"And there we have it, ladies and gentlemen," I said, spreading my arms to an imaginary audience.
Sayu huffed, taking a lick of her own ice cream.
"This flavour . . . it's better than I was expecting," Light said appraisingly after a moment.
He was right. The flavour actually tasted like cookie dough and not some floury ripoff of it. "That's why I brought you here. Their fruit flavours taste like real fruits, too."
"Huh."
"Yeah," Sayu agreed, "this strawberry tastes just like I'm eating a fresh batch of them!"
The conversation dissolved into something calmer, and I let my thoughts wander. B had said . . . that I don't have a name or a lifespan that could be seen by a Shinigami's eyes . . . and Ryuk managed to confirm what I'd suspected about it being by the cause of a Death Note . . . so that means that I had to be killed by a Death Note at some point, by a human. In my . . . universe, I suppose I could call it.
Come to think of it, back then . . . I was hit by a motorbike, wasn't I? If . . . if I recall correctly, Anna mentioned it being because the driver had died of a heart attack . . .
That could very well mean that the driver had been killed by that Death Note too. And if that motorbike accident had been caused by the Death Note, that means that someone had intentionally tried to kill me . . . and, well, succeeded. Does that make the biker collateral damage? And if that was the case, that means it was either arranged for that guy to have killed me, or this person had the Shinigami Eyes . . .
But why would anyone want to kill me, of all people? A test to see if it worked, maybe? Come to think of it, I did hear someone calling my name that day, didn't I? Does that have any correlation to it?
I was brought back to reality by a flick on my forehead. "Earth to Mikko, come in please," Light drawled, clearly having been watching me space out for a while.
"Do you think she's ever going to stop spacing out?"
"Considering how long we've known her . . . I doubt it."
"I'm right here," I muttered.
"You weren't until a second ago," Sayu challenged.
I huffed, eating another bite of my mostly-melted ice cream. "Seriously though, you can't do that outside or you'll end up getting hurt or injured. Or possibly attacked or robbed." Light said, punctuating it with a lick of his ice cream.
"You know . . . I don't actually think so. At least for the latter―Kira's been killing criminals who'd do that, and since Kira's in Japan, it's become safer here especially," I mused. I wonder how Light will take this. Perhaps he'll assume I approve of what he's doing?
It hit me then that yes, Light Yagami, my best friend, was actually killing people―criminals, yeah, but still people nonetheless―on a massive scale.
That was at least hundreds of people dead because of Light. Of course, they were all people who'd caused peril to society―murderers, traffickers, assaulters, rapists; people who'd caused severe physical or psychological trauma in general―perhaps people who the world would objectively be better off without.
But still people.
And the ones close to those criminals would be left suffering too, in grief. They didn't deserve that. They don't deserve to lose the ones they care about like that. The same way I lost Mum and Dad. Those people could be going through the same thing I did when Dad . . .
Of course, it wasn't as . . . gruesome as Dad's murder, but dealing with that loss would still be difficult. Hell, it had taken me a month of therapy to be able to think about it calmly and rationally.
Plus, there was the added downside of the toll that the Death Note was taking on Light's mental health. The therapy we'd all undergone had definitely taken a weight off Light's shoulders, yes, but . . . that didn't take from the fact that he was literally killing people, as indirect as it was. And, of course, it was affecting him, no matter how much he was trying to hide it.
"From an objective standpoint, you're right," Light said after thinking for a moment. "But that still doesn't mean that what Kira's doing is okay."
"Alright, both of you need to get your nerd brains out of this before you bore me to death," Sayu announced, stopping Light before he could continue.
I shrugged, leaned forward, and took a bite out of Light's ice cream.
"Hey! You have the exact same flavour," Light objected.
I just stuck my tongue out at him. "Then hurry up and eat it before I do. Come on, we're going to Shibuya later since a new arcade opened there."
"An arcade?"
"Yeah, you practically live in your room now, so you need to get out and be a teenager before it ends! Actually, in most places, it's already ended for you. They consider eighteen an adult," Sayu put in.
"Alright," Light agreed. Huh, didn't expect him to agree so fast.
By the time we got back, all three of us were exhausted.
"I lost at almost everything," I groaned as I flopped onto Light's bed.
"Not everything. You were the best at that shooting game," Sayu pointed out.
"Well, everything else. Pac-Man, DDR, Whack-a-Mole―I'm not cut out for arcades . . ."
Sayu had beaten both of us at most of the games―obviously, since she was the one who had the most practice amongst the three of us. Light still managed to catch on to the games pretty quickly, of course, leaving me in the dust. Guess I'm more suited to console and mobile games anyway. Too bad that's not possible for me here . . .
Sayu snickered, and even Light suppressed a laugh.
"Hey, at least shooting will be relevant to your career," Light pointed out.
"Mhmm," Sayu agreed, then yawned. "'Kay, I'm gonna take a nap. Wake me up at six, okay?"
"Mmm, me too," I agreed, feeling my eyelids already growing heavy as I fell asleep.
I ended up blinking awake at a quarter to six with Light's arm draped around me, his arm being the only thing that kept me from falling off, considering my legs were hanging on the floor. He's . . . surprisingly strong.
Nonetheless, I managed to wriggle my way back onto the bed without waking Light up.
I could get the Death Note while he's asleep.
A quick glance showed that Ryuk was lounging around watching TV at Light's desk. Would he care if I took the Note from Light . . . ?
Carefully, I maneuvered my way out of Light's vice-like hold and sat up on the bed, rubbing my eyes. Ah . . . we're all still dressed. Guess we were too tired to change.
"Ryuk," I said quietly, drawing his attention, "how long does it take for the owner of a Death Note to lose ownership if their notebook gets stolen?"
"Eh, I dunno."
"Aren't you helpful."
Ryuk looked mildly offended. "It's around five hundred days."
So I couldn't just steal the notebook―Light would know immediately that I was the one who'd taken it, and he wouldn't lose his memory of it for well over a year. Even if I tried to hide the notebook, he'd still be able to talk to and see Ryuk, plus he could use his scraps of the notebook until he eventually convinced Ryuk to either steal pages from me or to give the notebook back to him.
Light had to lose ownership of the notebook one way or another if this was going to work. If memory served, destroying the Death Note would also make him lose his memories of it, so that was another option. L would confront him about being Kira when university started, roughly a month from now. If I could get rid of the Death Note before then, what would the consequences be?
L already suspected Light, that much was clear from the cameras and the fact that he'd shown up at the To-Oh entrance exams. It wouldn't be too hard for him to do some digging and talk to Naomi about Penber, and she could easily tell him that Penber did reveal his identity to someone during the busjacking. Of course, there was no proof that Light and I were the ones to whom Penber had revealed his identity, but since Light was being tailed at the time, L would definitely narrow in on that.
However, the L I remembered wasn't the kind who would ask Naomi about Penber when there was no material proof that it could be useful. Plus, she was probably busy trying to track down B. Timing-wise, getting rid of the notebook now would be the best choice. L wouldn't act at least for another month, so there wouldn't be any clear instigation of why Kira would suddenly stop killing people. It would look completely random.
There was also the added bonus of Light's mental health―using the Death Note was taking its toll on him, but if Light were to lose his memories of using the Note, it would be like it had never happened. He'd probably think that he'd been going after Kira with me instead. When L would confront him, that would make it impossible for Light to say anything actually incriminating.
Or, alternatively, it could dig Light into a pit because his story wouldn't line up with the evidence.
Plus there was the fact that he definitely still had notebook scraps with him―in his room, his pockets, and probably other places I didn't know of. If he touched those scraps, his memories would return, and then he'd definitely know I got rid of the notebook. In fact, once he remembered, he'd probably devise a way to make sure he was touching some of the Death Note paper at all times.
There was also a possibility that in that time, he'd manage to convince Ryuk to get him another Death Note, in which case the entire thing would be fruitless. That, or if he didn't get his memories back but Ryuk gave him another notebook anyway, he could end up doing the same thing or trying to go after "the original Kira"―a wild goose chase.
Not to mention . . . if he doesn't have his memories when L confronts him, Light would start suspecting himself, and I don't think he could live with that . . . it would slowly eat at him until he wouldn't be able to take it. But at the same time, he's killing people. It isn't like that's not affecting him, too . . .
But again, Light wouldn't be able to construct a solid alibi for L to believe at this point, before meeting him and being able to understand him. L would suspect Light, who would be completely at a loss with no means of proper defense, and I would obviously know far more than I should―especially if Light's and my own stories failed to add up because of his memory alteration.
So no destroying the notebook, then.
I wonder . . . if I should be grateful that the one who would typically be the most dangerous isn't a threat to me. Then again, was Light really the most dangerous? Wasn't L . . . more than willing to torture Light and Misa to get them to confess to being Kira? A wave of protectiveness surged through me.
What am I supposed to do?
I woke up the next morning to find Light and Sayu in my kitchen, making breakfast. Rather, Light was making breakfast, and Sayu was fidgeting with a gift box.
"Happy birthday, Kimiko!" they both said when they noticed me downstairs. Light brought breakfast to the table―it was a western breakfast of bacon and eggs.
"My favourite," I appraised, looking at my plate. "Thanks, you two!"
"Eh, Light did all the work making it," Sayu shrugged. "He'd make a great husband, don't you think?"
Light muttered something unintelligible under his breath.
"Not that he wouldn't," I said carefully, "but why ask such a loaded question, Sayu? You seem to be a little fascinated with the idea of marriage."
This time, it was Sayu's turn to get embarrassed. "H-hey, that's not what I meant at all!"
Before I knew it, the day had gone by. It was almost dinnertime when the phone rang.
"Ah, I'll get that," I said, picking it up. "Hello?"
"Hello, is this Yamada?"
"Um, yes. May I know who's speaking?"
"We would wish to confirm your prepaid reservation for five at Classic Italy this evening at seven, booked by a Mr Hayato Yamada."
Dad made . . . a reservation for us at Classic Italy? Months in advance? That place is impossible to get into . . . he must have wanted to celebrate my eighteenth birthday with me there . . . "Um, yes, thank you . . . ?"
Which was how I found myself with the Yagami family at an expensive restaurant within the hour, with two plates of pasta in front of me.
"This is . . . a lot of food," I said, blinking.
"Speak for yourself!" Sayu grinned. "Pass me the ravioli!"
Dinner was probably the highlight of the day, I realised when we'd all finished eating and were on our way back home.
"Goodnight, Mikko," Light said, giving me a quick hug before we parted ways. "Happy birthday." He pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead, and waved before turning back to his house.
I sighed, collapsing onto the couch. Happy birthday to me . . .
I supposed it wasn't too different from my other birthdays―Dad hadn't been around for a lot of them since Mum died, but he had left an email wishing me a happy birthday more often than not.
But today, there was nothing.
Except, I realised as my eyes wandered to the coffee table, that box that B left me. In all honesty, I was tempted to ignore it for the sole reason that it had something to do with B, but on the other hand, there was a chance it could provide me with more information.
Figuring I had nothing to lose, I got up and brought the small box with me to my room.
The wrapping paper (or, well, its equivalent) on it was plain brown paper, like any normal package delivered through the post would be. There was no writing on it, no decoration, not even a piece of sellotape out of place. It looked completely impersonal.
And what was inside seemed just as impersonal. It was a small, leather-bound notebook, with the words Happy 18th birthday written on the first page being the only hint that it was actually meant for me.
Opening it, though, proved that this single notebook was in fact a goldmine of information.
Because on its pages was the timeline of the events that took place in the original Death Note canon, just as it would probably have looked in Death Note 13: How to Read.
This is perfect, I thought in awe. I don't even care how B got his hands on this―this is exactly what I'm going to need to get a foothold on this entire situation. I finally had an advantage.
Happy birthday me, indeed.