Light sat at his desk and stared at the thin black book. He still couldn't figure out the mystery behind it, where it came from, why is it in his room and most importantly, why he couldn't read a single word that is written in the notebook.
It was unnerving, as no matter how many pages he had flipped through, it was full of indiscernible scribbles and markings, like words that are too far away to be made out. Light had thought it was just that at first but he couldn't be sure, so he had Sayu read one of the lines for him.
'Yamaguchi Nobuya,' she read, then asked why Light had her read it for him.
He made an excuse about testing her ability to read names.
As it turns out, the page only contained names.
And he still couldn't see any of them.
After his comment, Sayu complained that he's lame and left before he could get her to read anything else. So here he is, sitting in his room and trying to understand this weird occurrence.
It got nowhere, so Light switched on his PC and went to search for the name 'Yamaguchi Nobuya'. About a million results are spat back out at him, with at least seven social media links for the name and twenty more for an artist with that name. He wondered if that was it, the name that Sayu read out was the name of an artist.
Somehow, his gut feeling thought that wasn't it but he couldn't know unless he got the rest of the names in the book.
Light clicked to go to the next page and scrolled down, just as he heard his mother call him for dinner.
"Coming!" He replied and promptly left the room, closing the door behind him.
On the screen, the last link read 'Murderer Yamaguchi Nobuya Dies from Heart Attack'.
"What are you doing cooped up in your room?" His mother asked as soon as he appeared at the top of the stairs.
"I was studying," Light said.
"Huh?" Sayu uttered as she fixed an incredulous look upon him, "But it's going to be summer break soon!"
"I was just reviewing some materials before the holiday starts, so I don't forget," Light said in his own defense as he walked down the stairs, cursing himself when he realized he'd forgotten what the date is. Well, at least it puts him in a better light in front of his family.
"Okay, Mr. Hardworking," Sayu rolled her eyes, her face brightened, "Oh, guess what, Dad came home!"
"Really?" He smiled.
"He's in the kitchen," Sachiko informed, "I'll get the fish so we can all start eating."
As she left, Sayu took the opportunity to jab him in his side.
"Ow, Sayu!"
She giggled as Light raced after her for revenge.
When he entered the kitchen and saw who was sitting at the table, he stopped.
Sayu, who was prepared to keep running for her life was puzzled when she saw her brother just standing at the threshold.
"Nii-chan, what's wrong?"
Light kept staring, because the person sitting at the dinner table was not their father.
It was Kira.
The red-haired man stared back at him and flashed a smirk right back at him.
"Light?"
Light snapped out of it and turned to regard his mother, who was looking back at him with a concerned expression on her face.
He turned to Kira, who still has the same expression on his face. It was then that he realized that none of his family members are able to see him. He started to wonder where his father actually is but said nothing of that matter.
"It's nothing…" He muttered and went to take a seat across Kira, where he usually faced his father and feigned an air of normalcy. "Let's eat."
"Let's," Kira said in a pleasant imitation of his voice, his lips curling even more in amusement as the mother and daughter pair joined them, the perplexed expression remained at Light's earlier reaction.
Sayu turned the television on during dinner, staring at the screen while she ate.
It was some sappy drama with Hideki Ryuga, as usual.
This time, instead of chiding her for watching TV while she's eating, Light simply stared at Kira, who ate dinner as if nothing was wrong. It irked him, as the red-haired man who had no place in his house acted perfectly at home within it.
Light was even more unsettled as this imitation of himself copied everything he did perfectly.
He held his chopsticks casually but firmly, his first chopstick, the one above, held securely between his index, middle finger and thumb and moved only by his first two fingers. His second chopstick is held between his thumb and his palm, still throughout the entire time he used it.
Light noticed that because he himself had researched it, the correct way to hold chopsticks and he had trained himself to hold it properly and perfectly since he was young.
It was even more obvious when Kira is next to Sayu, where she held the chopsticks loosely and her thumb incorrectly followed its movements.
Kira picked out the fish bones daintily, he picked up the bowl whenever he was going to take a few bites of his rice and put it down whenever he picked something from the side dishes. He had a particular way of going about picking food from the sides, first he had some from the plate of stir-fried vegetables, then had some grilled teriyaki chicken, stewed fish, steamed eggs that Sachiko had portioned out for everyone, he ended it off with a sip of miso soup, holding it with both of his hands and tipping it back to meet his lips. He then proceeded to have the sides starting again from the vegetables, continuing in a cycle and alternated his sides with rice.
It was a perfect echo of how Light would eat his dinner.
He set down his chopsticks, having lost his appetite.
Kira noticed it and smiled, "What's wrong, Light?"
Light stared at him, schooled his expression to show nothing as he glanced at his mother and Sayu.
"Feel free to speak to me," Kira said, munching on some chicken, "They won't notice a thing."
Light eyed him cautiously, trying to discern whether the red-eyed man was tricking him.
Finally, he demanded, "Why are you here?"
They didn't react to his statement and simply continued eating and watching TV.
"I did promise you that we'll meet again," Kira said.
"Why are you in my house?" Light asked unhappily.
Kira shrugged, "What can I do? You happen to be dreaming of this place."
Light glared at him sullenly.
"Have you perhaps figure out what I am?"
The teen kept staring as he drank more soup, "Are you a demon?"
Kira chuckled and set down his bowl. His eyes flashed red, "I'm afraid I can't answer that."
His hands clenched into fists, about to attack the strange man when he said, "Because I don't even know what I am."
"What?"
Kira sighed and seemed almost solemn as he stated, "I am neither a demon nor a spirit, nor am I something split off from you, Light. I simply, exist."
Light hesitated, watching him carefully for any signs of deceit.
There was none, and he didn't know what to do with this information.
"What do you want?"
Kira set his chopsticks down and looked right back at him.
"A purpose."
Light found that idea absurd, "You want me to give you a purpose?"
"You've already given me, back then."
The brunette stared at him in confusion and thought through all the possibilities where he could've even done in the first place.
"Wait, you don't mean-" Light gaped at him, horrified as he whispered, "I'm the one who made you Kira?"
"That's exactly what you did," Kira informed, as the teen leaned back, away from his own creation, "You brought me into existence, you gave me a purpose, one which is to cleanse this world and make it safe for the innocents again, for them."
Kira gestured to his oblivious mother and sister, who are staring at the screen as Hideki finally confesses his true feelings.
Light's gaze was directed to the two, as Kira affirmed, "You did it for them, and for Father too."
The teen watched as Sayu shrieked as Hideki kisses the girl, and their mother lecturing her about squealing in the middle of dinner. He watched as she sheepishly apologized and caught him staring. She smiled, and Light felt convinced.
Kira seemed to feel the shift as well and continued, "So I don't see a reason why we shouldn't work together."
Light turned to face Kira, his eyes hazy.
"Join me, Light," a dark smile began to creep onto his face, as he coaxed, "Join me and we can make this happen."
"I-" Light looked confused.
"Say yes," his red eyes flashed as he urged.
"Ye…" Light's eyes cleared up as he shook his head. He looked at Kira and said, "Sorry, I don't think I can do that."
Kira's posture stiffened, "Why not?"
"I can't kill people," Light said firmly, "It doesn't matter if they're good or bad, killing is wrong."
"You gave me that purpose before."
"I might've," Light muttered, "And I can't change what I've done."
Kira took on a soft, accommodating tone, "Why don't we finish it, since you've already done it?"
"No," Light glared, "I will not let the murders continue."
Kira's expression turned cold. Light noticed a pale hand moving to brush his hair back, his gesture of annoyance.
"You know the justice system is null," Kira began.
"No, it isn't," Light snapped, "Not completely."
"What do you mean?"
Light hesitated, "There's L."
Kira snorted, "You don't actually believe that he is upholding justice because he truly believes in it."
"It may not be the case," Light glowered at Kira for laughing at him, "But I'm working with him, I'll be able to make a difference this time."
"Yeah?" Kira challenged, "And what happens when 'Kira' is finally brought to justice? Will you be able to continue to work by his side, or uphold the justice that you're so devoted to?"
"That's…" Light trailed off.
"There's no way around it," Kira said grimly and stood up, "Think about it, I'll come for your answer another time."
Just like that, the red-haired man disappeared into the blackness, along with everything else.
Light opened his eyes to the darkened sight of the ceiling, disorientated by his vivid dream. He sat up, feeling strangely alert and tired at the same time. The eighteen-year-old was puzzled to find no disturbances and turned to face the detective who lay next to him, fast asleep.
L was curled up on his side, mimicking his crouch whenever he sits.
Until now, Light wasn't sure whether he had become the greatest detective because he truly believed in justice, or did it because he was bored. He believed more in the latter, because there was a point in time that he stopped believing in justice, because of everything that was wrong around him and there was nothing he could do about them.
But L, he brought a difference. He is able to change what is wrong with the world and if Light were to work with him on that, the world will change for the better.
However, to truly uphold justice, once they find the evidence for it, Light will have to be imprisoned, maybe given the death sentence.
Because he was Kira.
And past actions that he had no knowledge of, no matter what reason caused it, is no excuse for the murder of many, convicts or not.
At that moment, Light thought the idea of justice is a terrible thing indeed.
He decided, he would do as much as he could for this case before the truth is uncovered.
As much as he could.
L said at his desk the next day, doing nothing but eating and thinking.
It was a slice of strawberry cake, consisting of layers of light, fluffy sponge cake, thick and creamy strawberry cream that has the hint of a soft sweetness that strawberries of premium quality has, filled with slices of fragrant strawberries, thick vanilla cream, topped with more strawberries and chunk of white chocolate that are placed precariously on the cake, the decorations themselves are of similar height to the cake itself.
L barely noticed the taste as he observed that Light is no longer looking at strange websites looking to exorcise demons, or seeming to be deeply concerned about something that his eyebrows were severely scrunched up.
He was absorbed in the Yotsuba Case, digging and scrutinizing every source he could find on every of the influential Yotsuba Corp. members that told of their background and their personalities. Currently, he's mainly on the fifth person, Shingo Mido, building his profile and adding on more information that he'd found on the other members.
The others are partly on the same task, as well as creating the list of convicts who had died via heart attack and others who are likely killed by Kira, and monitoring Yotsuba's activities and compiling various statistics that had to do with their corporation.
As for L, he's mainly thinking about what happened yesterday.
He took another saccharine sweet bite out of the cake, still wondering what it was that he felt when Light was holding his hand.
It reminded him of Watari holding his hand when he was still a child, lost and having nowhere else to go. Watari was the one who gave him a place to call home, that day when they both stood in front of the building with the tall gates made of wrought iron.
Everyone he ever knew was gone and he was all alone, until Watari came forward and took him in. He wasn't really happy about it in the beginning.
But when the older man took his hand and brought him to his new home, it sparked a warmth in his cold chest.
This felt different.
L had never held anyone's hands for over a decade and a half after that. He had virtually no contact with anyone else and no one had touched him, out of either respect or fear. The direct skin contact was strange and unnerving and the feeling that came from it was even stranger.
A warm fuzziness.
L thought that it might have something to do with his experience of prolonged lack of skin contact, there is a thing about it being important for people.
Sure, there are instances where they accidentally brush against each other because of the close proximity between them caused by the use of the chain. They are different, though, because holding hands was direct and intentional on their part.
L also wondered whether it had something to do with Light being his first and only friend, that it would make him feel something from touch.
Still, it felt too strange for the reason to remain just that.
L turned to Light, who remain oblivious of his surrounding as he rapidly scanned through the articles, picking out information and transferring them into his documents.
It looked as if he was racing against time.
And L tried to figure out what on earth his 'observation' was supposed to be about.
L thought back to his basic education about human psychology and communication.
The purpose of physical contact in body languages is to reveal positive intentions and establish intimacy and trust.
In the case with Watari, it was to show support, guidance and authority. L was a mere child that time, alone and lost and Watari was the one who took him in. He was established as a guardian and a father figure, supporting L in his time of lost and allow him to build his confidence in the older man as someone who would take care and protect him.
That purpose is definitely not the case with Light.
Holding hands to show respect and friendship, as prevalent in Arab, some African and Asian cultures seemed out of the question, as Japanese are not known for holding hands for that function.
There remained the last possibility: romance and affection.
L found it a little hard to wrap around his mind that Light would have such an intention, the teen had strongly indicated that he was adverse against a romantic relationship of any kind with the detective and Light had a complete lack of reaction to that incident, other than a sort of satisfaction that came with the results.
It was when L was beginning to figure it out.
Judging from the complete lack of emotion and reaction, and the clinical tone and approach he had towards the contact.
Wasn't it an experiment? About what?
L thought back to their recent interactions before that occurrence and finally came to a conclusion.
Light was testing whether he had any romantic feelings towards him and he was satisfied that he got nothing, that was exactly because L had nothing.
That gave him a new question, what did he do that Light had to test that to see for himself?
L glanced at the teen, trying to puzzle it out.
He gave up a few minutes later and went back to eating his cake.
It was dinner time when Light announced that he had finished his profiling on the Yotsuba Group.
He sat, facing the room in his chair while they looked at him for what he might've found. L was just licking the last of the cream smeared on the fork.
"After looking through the records and information of the Yotsuba members, the most likely candidate to be Kira is... inconclusive."
There was a sense of disappointment in the air, not against Light but against the situation itself. Still, Light could not help but feel bad that they didn't manage to get anywhere even after all the work.
"There are some individuals who are more suspicious than the others, though," he informed, turning to his laptop that is currently connected to the large screen in the center.
"There are eight members in total. First, we have Kyosuke Higuchi, who is the head of Technology Development. From the reports, he generally seemed to be a greedy man who cares only about himself. Next is Shingo Mido, the Vice President of Corporate Strategy and the Director of Financial Planning, it was mentioned somewhere that he dislikes financing, despite his position in the group."
Light pressed the left button on his keyboard and another picture appeared, "This is Suguru Shimura, the Head of Personnel, he was stated to be a paranoid man, which is a quality that Kira has, and it also coincides with his current activities. Next is Arayoshi Hatori, who is the Vice President of Marketing. He is the illegitimate son of the company president. If he is Kira, his motivation might be creating chances to prove himself to the president."
"There are also others within the company who has the potential to be Kira, currently, these are the most suspicious. However we also can't dismiss that fact that people who are the least likely to be him could be Kira," Light turned back to his laptop, "I'll send the files to your accounts for reference."
"Thank you, Light-kun," L said, "We shall continue to monitor their activities, as well as Kira's killings."
To his right, Light shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly, L mentioned nothing about that as he continued, "So there's nothing to do for now but to wait and see."
"Are you just going to watch while the death count rises?"
L turned to face Soichiro and caught the stern look on his face.
Perhaps that is the reason why Light seemed upset, Soichiro was the one who taught him about this after all, judging from his admonishes whenever his son did something wrong.
That might be something worth considering, he thought.
"Not entirely," L admitted, "I'm working on it, it might take a while."
The older man didn't look satisfied but it was enough to keep him from badgering L until he does something about it immediately.
"So there's nothing to do until then?" Matsuda questioned.
"No, there is," Aizawa grumbled, "Read your report for god's sake."
"Okay…" he muttered, "But what about after we're done?"
"Then think of a solution!"
"What if we can't think of a solution?"
"Whatever, go eat your dinner if you have nothing useful to add!"
"Okay."
With that, the bachelor happily left the room while Aizawa began his work.
A few moments later, he stopped, "Wait, did Matsuda just manipulated me into giving him a break?"
"That appeared to be the case," L said, staring at his empty plate.
"That idiot Matsuda?" Aizawa was dumbfounded, "I can't believe it."
"Perhaps Aizawa-san needed a break too."
The older man went silent, he looked conflicted as he stared at the stack of papers in his hands.
"In the meantime," L turned to face Light, who looked back at him quizzically, "Is Light-kun interested in a game of chess?"
"Checkmate."
Light stared at the chessboard incredulously, his pieces all trapped with nowhere to go.
Five moves. Damned L bested him in only five moves, what the hell?
The brunette gaped at him, his expression slowly turning into a glower as he realized that the bastard had tricked him. L had let him win the first round by a small margin and neither of them were playing seriously. He led him to think that it was going to be the standard, the bait that he loosely constructed.
"Wow, that was quick!"
Light suppressed a growl at Matsuda's voice, blaming L for making him suffer this humiliation.
"Would Light-kun like a rematch?" L asked innocently.
He was being taunted, that statement was another attempt to bait him.
To what? Play seriously?
"I don't mind if Light-kun decides to call it a day," L said pityingly, "I understand if he couldn't handle it."
Light's eye twitched in annoyance.
Who the hell do you think you're talking to?
"We'll go another round," Light smiled, "After all, it's only a game, there's no need to take it seriously."
I'm going to crush you, he thought.
"My thoughts exactly," L let a tiny smile show, it was one of amusement, "I'll go easy on you, Light-kun."
The teen quelled the urge to whack him hard across the face just once, "Well, what are you waiting for, Ryuuzaki? Set up the board."
He noticed a faint curling of his toes, before L silently set the pieces back into place.
Then he thought, he might have found another game to play.
Light shifted so that his posture was directed at L, his elbows resting on his thighs, his fingers interlocked, sending a signal to get his opponent engaged. He smiled, "How about we make it more interesting, Ryuuzaki?"
L looked up at him, "What do you propose?"
"A penalty," Light said, "We'll do a best out of five, loser will have to do whatever the winner tells them for three days."
The detective thought about it, "On one condition, Light-kun will not give me an order that will force me to reveal my identity or anything associated with it in any way."
"Deal."
L set the last piece into place, "Let us begin, I'll let you be white."
Light smiled to hide the irritation on his face, "I'll make you regret that decision."
"Go on," L taunted, "Make me."
The brunette moved one of his pawns forward.
Darkness, it was a space, a manifestation and not quite.
There was no sight, nor light. No taste, sound or smell. There was no sensation, no such thing as heat, or the cold. No life and no death.
There was nothing else with him in the void, none of existence but he himself.
He floated in the vast, empty blackness. Just there, hovering, existing, something tangible yet intangible at the same time. He felt everything and felt nothing all at once. He was everywhere and nowhere at once, the only thing in the vacuum of non-existence. And the darkness was peaceful.
Then it happened, a sudden flash of red.
An unpleasant pulse travelled through him, through the darkness that used to be safe.
The red was gone, out of sight but he felt it.
It was still there, watching, a dark, crooked smile on its face.
It twisted, spread wider, far beyond what the darkness could comprehend.
Fear coursed through him, the invisible veins in the dark.
Soon, it was no longer just the red, or the fanged sneer.
Limbs extended out of it, limbs like the thick, boneless arms of the octopi, denser than the non-existent darkness, blacker than what could be sensed. They grew, longer and blacker and reached for him, where he was everywhere and nowhere, wrapping around everything it could find.
He felt the slimy, sinister touch of the appendages, everything it found was turning into pitch, darker than black.
It consumed him, ate him whole, as his non-existent self screamed and struggled and scrambled, to flee away from this darkness that changes him.
Like a serpent that chokes its prey, injecting dark venom into him and devours him.
And he was gone, nothing else remained but the pitch-like darkness.
You are mine.