I've posted some drawings I've made of Yuki over on my tumblr if anybody is interested in seeing him, hopefully, it will make picturing him easier; post/190642752350/a-couple-of-drawings-just-to-serve-as-reference
As the sun rose from behind the clouds, its rays shining down and bringing a much-appreciated semblance of warmth from the previous winter months, a thin stream of light peeked through the window of an empty classroom.
A chilly breeze blew through sending curled locks drifting before falling back to settle upon a pale cheek. The classroom was mostly silent, only the quiet pants of breath escaping parted lips could be heard. Sat upon the desk chair, a figure was draped gracefully. Their thin frame spoke of a delicate nature while the long lashes and rosy cheeks only added to their child-like appearance.
Steady footsteps walked down an empty corridor before coming to a stop outside the classroom door. With a swish that echoed in the silence, the door was opened, and the visitor entered the room, eyes falling onto the figure sleeping blissfully unaware.
Transfixed by the sight and somewhat nervous, the newest arrival rose a shaky hand toward the sleeping beauty and cupped a soft cheek, a stuttering breath leaving his lips as he felt the warmth seep into his hand.
Long lashes fluttered as the figure awoke from their slumber and the man cupping their cheek hastily backed away, not wanting to be caught in such a compromising position.
The boy – that was all he could be described as, for no manly features graced such a delicate face – blinked wearily at the blurry figure that stood in front of him, bringing up a hand to wipe away the last vestiges of sleep.
"Hm?" he mumbled.
"Sasaki-kun, I came to wake you up. You have a lecture in 20 minutes," the stranger spoke, and his words seemingly got through to the boy for he shot up from his position and checked the watch he wore on his wrist.
Sasaki Yuki, now fully awake and staring at the ticking hand on his watch that counted ever closer to his next appointment looked back up at the man with a shy smile. "Thank you, Yamada-san. I'm afraid I never would have woken were it not for you."
The man laughed good-naturedly, rubbing the back of his head as though humbled by the boy's gratitude. He waved his hand, mumbling that it was no trouble.
Yuki perked up and swiftly began tidying up his belongings scattered across the desk and placing them back into his bag, glancing over at Yamada as he did so. "Do you have a class soon, Yamada-san? I wouldn't want to make you late."
Laughing and turning away as though embarrassed by his words, Yamada couldn't help but stare at Yuki from the corner of his eyes. "No, no. I'm done for the day…though, I was wondering, well, whether you'd like to catch a drink later?"
Yuki looked up at his words with wide eyes, though a small smile graced pink lips. He laughed lightly. "Yamada-san, you know I don't drink."
"Ah- yes, well, I suppose we could grab a coffee if you'd prefer-"
"I'm sorry, Yamada-san, but I can't make it tonight. I have marking to do for Haizaki Sensei," Yuki apologised. He smiled kindly at Yamada whose expression had fallen upon hearing the boy's initial rejection. "Maybe next time, hm?"
Yamada's face momentarily darkened but switched before Yuki could see, a wide grin forming that distorted the man's face into something eerily intense. Though Yuki didn't notice a thing, for he was already fastening his bag and rising from his seat, pushing it under the table neatly before hurrying past the motionless Yamada.
"I better get going. Have a nice day, Yamada-san. Thank you again for waking me up!" Yuki smiled one last time before exiting the room, his gaze facing forward as he rushed to get to his next appointed room on time, thus neglecting to notice the now stone-faced man.
Yamada watched the slender boy run down the corridor before he disappeared from sight, his figure motionless save for those beady eyes that continued to stare where Yuki had gone.
Yuki sighed in relief as he reached the room just a couple of minutes before the lecture began and he sent a sheepish smile to the man standing at the front, who rolled his eyes good-naturedly at the usual sight of a rosy-cheeked Yuki arriving just in the slip of time.
Collapsing onto the front row of benches and pulling out a notebook and his glasses, Yuki was ready to pay close attention to the lecture ahead. He took his duty very seriously and wanted to make a good impression on Haizaki Sensei, who had vouched for the boy when he'd applied for such a position.
His final year of To-Oh was stressful and Yuki had also decided to take on the extra load of responsibility that came with being a lecturer's assistant. He knew he wanted to teach after graduating and so had applied to apprentice as an assistant whilst completing his final year, arguing that the experience could only benefit him if he wished to teach. It seemed the higher-ups agreed and after a surprisingly positive speech by Haizaki, Yuki's time was now split between being a student and also helping out Haizaki wherever he could.
Listening in as Haizaki explained the theoretical aspects of the pre-Socratics and their philosophy, Yuki's rapid note-taking was interrupted as a rather forward student brought up a topic that many considered taboo in such recent times.
Kira.
The mysterious entity had been widespread news for months since people began noticing how criminals had begun rapidly dropping dead and people clambered to voice their opinions on such a matter – whether they agreed or disagreed with Kira's methods, everybody was aware of the power the being held.
Even mentioning Kira in everyday conversation, unless with friends or people you knew shared your opinions, was considered rude and many would awkwardly change the subject upon simply hearing the name. Kira was both revered and reviled in equal measure.
Turning his head and getting a good look at the boy who'd spoken, he could see the fierce determination in his eyes as he asked the same question again.
"If the original qualm was of God being non-benevolent because he allowed sin to happen and did nothing about it, then could it be argued that such a problem has ceased to exist?"
The hall was silent as students stared at the boy in a mixture of shock and mild horror. Yuki watched the boy from under his lashes, interested to where exactly he was going with such a line of thinking. It was a sound argument starter and as he glanced to Haizaki, who's raised brow indicated intrigue, he knew the older man agreed.
"And how exactly would we categorise such a figure as in line with 'God'?" Haizaki asked. Such a question seemed to shock the boy from his tense posture, his clenched jaw becoming lax as he realised he was being taken seriously.
"Well, Kira is killing the bag guys, isn't he? He's ridding the world of those that hurt others or those that don't contribute anything to our society. He's making it a better and safer world for us all." The words were spoken with conviction and Yuki commended the boy for the strength backing his words. He wasn't sure he'd be able to do the same, despite holding very similar views.
A girl sitting a few rows down from him coughed and looked back with disdain. "Kira isn't a God, it's more likely a big cover-up by police to finally do something useful. There's only one God and Kira certainly isn't it."
Her words had an immediate effect on the room as voices began discussing, or in some cases arguing, their thoughts on such a matter. Yuki looked across to Haizaki, silently asking if he was going to stop them anytime soon but the man shook his head, his brown eyes lit up with a light that only a burning passion could ignite. Clearly the man lived for such arguments and discussions and Yuki smiled at seeing the man so eager to join in as he moved to sit with his students, nodding along as they each tried getting their own views across.
Yuki's mind wandered as he pondered the boy's words…words he himself agreed with wholeheartedly.
Before Kira, Yuki wasn't a religious person. His parents had never pushed any kind of belief onto him; both being career-driven individuals who didn't have time for anything but their jobs, most certainly not a focused religious or spiritual practice. It had left Yuki with a general sense of aimlessness – his heart and soul feeling empty and directionless, that he had nothing to follow, no grander purpose but to simply exist.
When he'd first heard of Kira, murmurs of a confrontation upon live TV of Kira themselves in a battle of wits against the detective who called themselves L, Yuki's entire being had gravitated toward the source of news, and once he'd gotten home, he'd searched everything he could on the entity that had been dubbed Kira.
Since that very moment, Yuki had been devoted.
The ringing of a bell brought him from his thoughts and looking around at the emptying classroom, Yuki slipped his notebook into his bag, smiling sheepishly as he realised he'd hardly written anything down in the last half hour. The students soon piled out and after saying a quick goodbye with Haizaki – and promising to grade the assignments he'd been left with – Yuki was leaving the building, wrapping the woollen scarf securely around his neck as he was greeted by the early spring breeze.
The weather was looking up as winter left and spring announced its arrival with blooming petals and shades of pink, however, the air still retained its bitter chill and the nights came early. Such was the case as Yuki boarded the train and stared out of the window, gazing at the passing city that was backdropped in deep blue. The nights, while no longer arriving so soon, still blanketed the sky by the time students were returning home and so Yuki tucked his face into the fluffy baby-blue scarf as the train came to a stop and those exiting began making their journeys home.
Yuki thought of his small, empty apartment and held in the sigh that wanted to escape. The apartment was nice enough but decidedly lonely. With parents that travelled for work all-year-round, Yuki had been left on his own since he could remember. Though, he guessed it wasn't all too bad. They were caring enough to pay his rent without fuss and so Yuki only suffered through the loneliness of such arrangement without financial struggle. He was grateful for his luck in life, but Yuki was a helpless romantic and couldn't stop the budding wish to share his home with somebody. Share his life with them.
The night was cold, and a shiver went down his spine, raising goosebumps upon his skin. Yuki rubbed his hands together, wishing once again that he'd thought ahead and ordered a hot drink from the college campus before heading home. The warmth of some hot chocolate would be very much appreciated right now. I'll make some when I get home.
All thoughts of cuddling up in a blanket and making a chocolate treat left Yuki's mind when he suddenly halted in his steps, as his eyes caught onto the lone figure standing eerily at the end of the short alleyway. Clenching his hands tightly at the inexplainable rush of fear he felt, Yuki attempted to smile at the stranger, hoping they were simply lost or drunk, and had no sinister intentions.
"Hello, are you lost, sir?"
He got no reply. Yuki darted his eyes to the side, contemplating the chances of escaping the scary situation when he paused as the man's head moved slightly, allowing the dim light from the streetlamp to shine upon his face, revealing a familiar sight.
"Yamada-san!" Yuki felt instant relief at seeing a familiar face and his shoulders sagged from the draining tension he'd felt moments ago. "You scared me, Yamada-san! Haha, what are you doing out so late? Oh! Could it be that you're lost, and you went out drinking after all?"
Yamada's expression had been blank up until that point, but with sudden and unexpected vigour, he lunged forward and crowded the smaller boy up against the wall, his face twisted into a smile.
"Yuki…" he whispered reverently, his hand cupping the boy's face.
Yuki was surprised and a little uncomfortable at his friend's antics, especially with the sudden use of his first name, but guessed that if he were in fact drunk, then he couldn't very well condemn his inebriated actions. After all, Yuki wasn't very familiar with the effects of alcohol, never participating in it himself, as so was unsure if such behaviour was normal or not.
"Yamada-san, would you like me to call you a taxi? I think you're very drunk."
"Yuki…won't you come back to mine? I promise I can make you feel good."
"What are you talking about, Yamada-san? Please stop, you're making me uncomfortable. Please, let me call you a taxi and you can sleep this off at home."
Yuki's voice had pitched higher as the man continued gripping his chin, staring into the boy's eyes intensely. He wasn't sure what to think and was beginning to feel the fear creep upon him again. He'd been in this very situation before and the dredging memories were an unwelcome pit in his stomach.
Yuki felt sick and attempted to push Yamada away, his efforts proving futile against such a man larger than him. "Please, Yamada-san. This isn't right. you're my friend, so please stop this nonsense."
Hot breath tickled his cheek as Yamada leant closer, his eyes were glazed in an emotion Yuki knew all too well, and it was with a horrifying sob that he truly understood the man's intentions. "Please, please, Yamada-san. Please don't do this, I don't feel that way for you. I never have. Please stop this…"
He'd begun crying and uncaring of his weak and pitiful attempts at escape, Yamada's expression twisted into something truly insane. His eyes were blown wide and his mouth curled into an ugly frown.
"You never have…" he whispered brokenly, seemingly staring through Yuki rather than at him. "Never have…"
Yuki sobbed again, his body frozen in shock and he didn't know whether to push Yamada away or grip onto his body in terror. He couldn't help but think, even in such a moment, that it was people like Yamada who truly needed to be rid from this world. These were the kinds of people Kira had eradicated. Who Kira had saved the rest of the world from. It was these kinds of people, the ones who hid their insanity and depravity from everyone around them, only to strike when they knew their victim was vulnerable and helpless. Kira was doing them all a favour – Kira was saving them, protecting them, by killing these monsters disguised in human skin.
A glint of metal was revealed as Yamada brought out the knife from behind, a weapon Yuki realised he must have been carrying all this time and the sob he let out was of both horror and acceptance. He knew his own physique and Yamada, despite being of average height, dwarfed him with his broad shoulders and thick frame. Yuki knew he was going to die but couldn't help the heartbroken cry from leaving his lips as he begged somebody to do something. For somebody to save him.
Kira. Kira, Kira, Kira.
Would Kira save him? Was he worthy of such notice, of such compassion? Surely, Kira would save somebody who believed in their cause?
"If I can't have you, then nobody can!" Yamada shouted, spittle flying from his mouth as he declared his undying love for the terrified younger boy, his eyes were alit with the insanity he'd kept hidden for so long. He swung an arm down toward the trapped boy, who despite knowing his death was imminent still raised his arms in reflex to protect himself, begging still in his mind for a saviour.
"Please, please, somebody help me! Please! Kira, Kira, please save me!" he sobbed desperately as the harsh stinging of the blade slicing through his skin burned upon his forearms. It seemed that despite his overwhelming advantage, Yamada's crazed attempts were rather poorly aimed.
Yuki's voice was sore from his own pleads for help and as he slumped back against the brick wall, blood running down his arms and shaking legs, he stared at the man that would be his end. "Please, Yamada-san. Don't do this."
"Yuki...I love you. I'll kill you and then I'll kill myself! We'll be together soon."
Such words were all he needed to hear to know that his life was forfeit. Yamada wasn't simply seeking to kill somebody, but his obsession and infatuation would see to both of their deaths, and Yuki knew he wasn't fast nor fit enough to outrun such a possessed being. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see as the knife inevitably came down, his heart beating frantically from within his chest and Yuki bit his lip harshly to stop the sobs from escaping.
...
A couple of seconds passed with no pain.
Trembling all over with adrenaline and pure terror, Yuki peeked open an eye to see just what had happened and they widened as he saw Yamada's horrified expression.
The man's eyes were bugging out wide as he clutched his chest in agony. He began swaying on the spot and the knife he'd wielded dropped to the floor in a clatter. Disbelieving of what was happening right in front of him Yuki could only stare. His mind had gone blank and as he finally realised that Yamada was suffering a heart attack, he let out a rush of breath. He felt dizzy from holding it in so long and his vision blurred as he tried blinking the fatigue away.
Yamada looked at Yuki with a pleading expression, outstretching his hand desperately as he tried taking a few steps closer before tumbling to the ground in a dead heap.
Yuki could only stare down at the dead body in silence.
The man that had tried to kill him had suddenly suffered a heart attack, killing him. Was this simply a coincidence, or divine interference? In my final moments, I was pleading for somebody to save me. For Kira to save me. Did they hear me? Is this an act of divine salvation?
Yuki's shaking legs sent him tumbling to the ground and as he expected to hit the floor in a painful heap, he suddenly felt weightless. He blearily looked down at his body only to see an innocent black notebook resting upon his stomach, while the rest of his body was suspended in the air as though being held. Yuki tried moving his head upwards to see who was holding him – had there been anybody else around when Yamada had died? Yuki was sure they were the only ones. His screaming hadn't helped in his rescue – however the movement sent a wave of sickness through him and so he lay his head back against the person's arms, grateful for any kind of help.
Heavy-lidded eyes blinked as their gaze rested upon the arm of his rescuer and Yuki only had a moment to ponder over the unusual tone of their arms – a sickly white that looked suspiciously like bone – before he couldn't escape the clawing ache of sleep any longer and he finally let his eyes fall shut.