12. BLOOD
After a sleepless night, Light deduces that he has no need for such a human necessity. His fatigue hasn't altered, and his mind remains lucid. In his past life, he frequently endured one-nighters, sometimes two-nighters, and his body suffered greatly for it. A few friends would comment on his excessive weight lose and gaunt appearance. Light found himself stuffing his face with junk food to secure the façade that he was in good health.
He would consider himself relieved right now if not for Ryuzaki's warning the night before and the impending fight. What time it starts, he doesn't know. But as the gray world outside the window starts to brighten, he notices the blue flames on the amphitheater strengthen, signifying daybreak.
A door unlocks, and a Shinigami with a carapace stands before their cell. "Time to go, slaves."
Ryuzaki stands eagerly, but Light hesitates.
The Shinigami slams its fist against the cell door. "Up. Now."
Light jumps to his feet and follows Ryuzaki out the door and into the hallway where several other slaves stand waiting, more than those that had been spared yesterday. The amount of slaves total a dozen, including Light and Ryuzaki. They vary in size and appearance. Some look almost human, while others are as far from human as possible.
The door opens again and Kinddara enters. "I expect a good fight today," she says. "Your first and only match will be to the death. You have just your knife to protect you. The winner will earn any wish."
The one thing keeping Light from losing his sanity is the knife in his pocket. It stands as the single barrier between his death and finding the Death Note with his name written inside it. But Light's never been a fighter in the traditional sense of the word. The closest fight he had ever engaged in was with L when they were handcuffed together, and that wasn't necessarily a fight for his life but a fight to prove his innocence. This will be something completely different. And his adversaries do not look merciful.
He has to convince Ryuzaki somehow.
Kinddara saunters down the line of slaves until she comes to the two most human ones of them all. She gives Ryuzaki a nod and Light pause, as if glaring with her nonexistent eyes. "Try not to bleed too early, whelp." She turns on her heel and returns to the entrance.
"I like her," Ryuzaki says.
"You have questionable taste in women," Light notes.
"It's her callousness that I admire, not her looks." His eyes stare at Kinddara's cloak. "How do you intend to survive this?"
"I have a few ideas."
"Name one."
Light gives him a meaningful look.
Ryuzaki sighs. "So, you still expect me to help you even after I clearly stated that you'd lose?"
"I haven't forgotten what you said. But if you kill me in the arena, you'll have no way of knowing why you were brought back and what your true purpose is. Kinddara certainly won't help you."
"I'll just find the Death Note myself."
Light shakes his head. "The Death Note has my name in it. If I die, it'll probably disappear, and if it disappears, you won't be able to decipher it's meaning. And if you can't decipher it's meaning—"
"All right. Shut up." Ryuzaki massages his temples. "Your death will bring me so much relief, but you're necessary for now."
Light hides a sidelong smile. That was easier than expected. L would have accused him of many things and run a series of test questions. Light may not be as blood thirsty as Ryuzaki, but, if anything, he's adaptable. He will use Ryuzaki as his shield for the time being until he figures out a method to rid himself of this burden.
When Kinddara has taken her leave, two slavers walk around and chain something else to each slave—two at a time. When one reaches Light, he jerks away.
"What is that?"
"A present," the slaver quips, grabbing his arm and lacing a manacle around his left wrist. He does the same to Ryuzaki.
Light realizes that the manacles connect, chaining them together just like how he and L had been chained all those years ago. It's almost comedic how history repeats itself in such subtle ways, and he chuckles sardonically.
"Enjoy, maggot," the slaver says, kicking Light's shin for emphasis.
He groans and falls against the wall.
Ryuzaki examines the chain connecting them. "Well, this is quite…" He purses his lips, searching for the appropriate word.
"Disappointing," Light answers for him, coming back to standing.
"I was going to say nostalgic, but yes."
The slaves are funneled into a neighboring hallway directly underneath the arena. Light can hear the thundering of feet and cheers from above the rattling ceiling.
"Don't piss yourself," Ryuzaki mumbles behind him.
"I seriously doubt that's possible," Light counters.
"So what's your nefarious plan?"
Light makes sure they're out of earshot before giving every small detail he has locked in his mind to the pale man. Ryuzaki listens, his eyes occasionally narrow in question, but he never interjects. As soon as Light finishes, a gate opens, and the two are jostled toward its dim light as a wave of slaves prepare to enter the arena. The chain connecting them goes taut as both men are torn away from each other briefly in the stampede. Light feels the manacle sink into his wrist and winces from the sharp ache.
Light has almost forgotten how much he despises crowds. Whenever he stood in the midst of one, be it of strangers or of friends, he'd count every passing minute until he could find an escape route. The body heat. The lack of space. The brushing of skin against skin. The claustrophobic atmosphere. He despises it all to this day still.
He weaves through the pile up and presses himself against the wall, holding his hands to his chest to protect himself from being trampled by the stampede of frightening and eager Shinigami. But the reprieve is short-lived when the chain snaps taut again and jerks him back into the fray. He catches a glimpse of Ryuzaki's head in the crowd and tails it. The head leads him into an open area where an audience of onlookers consumes the entire perimeter. Before him, on the far side of the arena, rests the podium, where Kinddara sits on her throne, fingering her embroidered cloak idly. When Light feels her eyes on him, he hastily turns away. Fear is not the kind of emotion he wants to evoke. And it threatens to seize him at this very moment. He tightens his grip around his knife and pulls twice on the chain, hoping Ryuzaki will notice.
After being tosses around like a ragdoll, the crowd finds some stability, and the fighters are arranged into a single-file line. Kinddara stands, and the amphitheater falls silent.
"Good luck to our participants," she announces, her voice casts a hint of deception that Light notes. She doesn't really wish them luck. "The winner of this fight will receive any wish of his or her desire. Do not disappoint us." With that said, the queen lifts both of her boney hands into the air and claps them together.
The audience roars.
Light hears something whistle past his ear but gets pulled to the side just in time, narrowly avoiding decapitation. Ryuzaki clenches the chain between them in one hand and his knife in the other. He has protected him.
Light stumbles back, falling to the ground. A patch of hair is missing from the side of his head. His face begins to bleed. He hadn't expected the fight to begin this soon.
Meanwhile, Ryuzaki dodges an opponent's knife and slices a hole across the brute's abdomen. A pile of guts and blood pour out, staining him. The brute keels over, dead. He jumps back next to Light but keeps his eyes alert on any future attackers. "If you intend to sit and die there, Yagami-kun, I suggest you let me know now!"
Light scrambles to his feet. He realizes his knife has slipped from his hand in that moment but has no time to search for it. Someone grabs him by the collar and pulls him back with so much force that both his feet come flying off the ground. He's pulled through the air like a ragdoll. Light tumbles and lands, noticing Ryuzaki has once again protected him from a fatal blow.
When he recovers, he watches Ryuzaki block a knife aimed at his throat with his hand. The blade sinks straight through his palm, coming out the opposite side. The pale man winces but grabs his opponent's hand before the knife slips out. His opponent tugs in a futile attempt to try and break free, giving Ryuzaki enough time to strike with his other hand, slicing the Shinigami's throat. Blood pours as quick and heavy as a waterfall onto the dirt.
So, gods can bleed.
The audience hoots with blood thirst. Light catches a brief glimpse of Kinddara leaning forward, her maw opening slightly. Despite her monstrous face, Light can tell it's a look of amusement. Ryuzaki is giving her the show he had promised her.
When Light returns to his feet, something glimmers in the dirt nearby. His knife!
But he's not sure whether he should move to grab it—two Shinigami stand in his way, dancing in a duel of blades and fists. Ryuzaki has found a third adversary, keeping it off his companion. Light has never been a fighter, nor does he believe he ever will be, even if he makes it through this. But having some form of defense is better than having nothing. And Kinddara will show no mercy or admiration to a coward who's won only because he has a bodyguard.
Light dashes for the knife. In his peripheral vision, he notices someone after him, but he keeps going. The chain goes taut just as he slides to grab it, barely managing enough time between snatching it and feeling an intense weight on his body. His back is shoved into the ground, and a searing pain engulfs his left arm. He starts blindly stabbing away at whatever has attacked him, shutting his eyes and feeling hot blood spill across his face. All of a sudden, he imagines being back inside the warehouse getting shot numerous times by Matsuda. His adrenaline had somehow subdued the pain enough from blacking him out. But Light remembers all too well how hot and cold he felt simultaneously while lying there in a mixture of blood and water, begging for someone to rescue him.
Now feels just like then, and he continues his siege of blind strikes until the blade breaks and the weight above him leaves.
Light squints his eyes open to see Ryuzaki hovered above him. His body trembles. His skin and long coat have been doused in red. "It's just us now, Yagami-kun," he pants.
Light blinks and surveys the arena. All other fighters are either dead or too dismembered to fight. At that moment, he recognizes the full extent of the searing pain that had washed over him. His left arm lies a few feet away in the dirt, partially crushed, with the chain still attached to its wrist. Bones stick out like spines on a porcupine's back, and the muscles have been torn apart. Light cups his open shoulder and almost gags.
The roars from the audience are louder than ever, reverberating through the ground, making it shake. They all begin chanting the same word:
"Kill…kill…kill…"
Light looks back up to Ryuzaki.
The expression on his companion's face reads exactly what the audience hopes for. They want blood. They'll get blood. The knife rises above Ryuzaki's head, and he grabs Light's collar with his other hand, prepared to sink the blade somewhere in between Light's neck and collarbone. It's a perfect area to strike—one that will ensure a quick and satisfying death.
"Ryuzaki," Light's voice peels through a meek shrill. This will be his end. Here. Now. By the same face of the person whose life Light had ended so many years ago. And for some strange, otherworldly reason, a tiny part of Light knows he deserves it.
The knife slips from the pale man's hand.
The amphitheater falls silent.
Ryuzaki's fingers release their hold on Light's collar, and he turns toward the podium. "This isn't my choice. It's either we both live or we both die. What do you decide?" he asks Kinddara.
The queen stands up promptly. A guttural growl escapes her throat. "What is the meaning of this?"
"You can't have one champion. If he dies, I die. That's how it is." Ryuzaki announces for all to hear. His voice resonates through the stands. "So choose between both of us or neither of us."
His knife's gleam in the dim sun catches Light's attention.
Kinddara pauses. Her head turns, as if scanning the audience for some form of assistance in her decision. If it were up to her alone, she'd kill them both outright, absent any hesitation. But this isn't entirely her decision. She had promised her viewers that one would stand above all else and be rewarded handsomely for his efforts. If she kills them both, she'll be labeled a liar. If she lets them both go, she'll be merciful. And, for the Queen of Blood, showing mercy would be an insult to her reputation.
But before she can make a decision, Ruzaki spits up blood. He cranes his neck around. Light stabs him again, and again, and again with his only hand until there is nothing left of Ryuzaki except a pile of blood and meat on the ground.
Light's remaining hand shakes violently as he finds his feet.
The audience gives a pause of stifled gasps before erupting into cheers.