13. REWARD
A/N: Hey, guys. So, as a special gift and thank you to all who have been keeping up with this story, I will be updating two chapters every week during the month of December instead of just one. Tune in every Saturday and Wednesday for new updates! -V
"Quite impressive," Kinddara says, clapping. "You tricked your own companion in order to save yourself. I can comfortably say that you've surprised me."
Light stands in Kinddara's private quarters, which rests on the highest peak of the amphitheater, much like a tower. There's no bed or place for someone to take rest. Only Kinddara's throne, that her retainers are forced to carry everywhere she goes, and a table containing a couple of empty wine glasses, a silver pitcher, and a bowl filled with Shinigami apples that resemble prunes, furnish the room. A window peaking out to the amphitheater adds something to the meager décor. It's certainly not the most lavish living conditions Light's ever seen, but, to Shinigami, this room amounts to royalty.
"It was necessary," Light says with pride.
Kinddara glides her boney finger along the pitcher's top and nods to Light. "Drink?"
"No, thank you."
But Kinddara pours him a glass anyway and hands it off to him. "No winner should refuse a celebratory drink."
Light takes the glass with his only hand and sniffs its contents. It doesn't have any pungent odor that would raise alarm. He taps some to his tongue. Not even an ounce of flavor. He drinks a sip to elude Kinddara's suspicion but wishes he hadn't as it gives him no pleasure. He now understands why Ryuk had chosen to leave the Shinigami world. Nothing, not even the wine, sates gods for very long.
"It's dull, isn't it?" she asks, as if knowing.
Light smiles weakly. "Well, it could use a bit more sweetener." Then he shakes his lone hand in the air. "Forgive me if I offended you, Your Grace, I was just hoping that the wine had more taste."
"I take no offense. This is what our father had worried about," she says. "We may be gods, we may have immortality and flight and power over the human realm, but we're not gaining anything by it."
"By father, do you mean the Shinigami king?"
"Father, overseer, ruler, creator," she lists. "He's everything we are and everything we'll ever be."
"I don't doubt it." Light takes another sip. "He truly is formidable. I've seen him myself. I could barely remain standing within the presence of such a influential and all-powerful being."
"Truly," she agrees.
Light taps the side of his drink and digs deeper. "I would imagine no one would dare cross him. Unless, of course, they wish to be sent to nothingness or somewhere even more horrible." He keeps his voice at a low octave, not breaking away to sound too charming or too formal. A blood rider like Kinddara doesn't care for flirtation or formalities.
"He's never been opposed," she says. "Not by me, or anyone."
Light finds a window of opportunity. "I'm surprised. You're the one who brings in the entertainment. You're the Queen of Blood. You should at least have some acknowledgement. You're brutality is wasted here in the Pits."
Kinddara fiddles with an animal skull on her cape. "Our father doesn't take kindly to unruly children. The fighting pits are new but they're all I know and have. Otherwise, I'd be like all the other scum out there wandering aimlessly through the wastes, searching for purpose."
He hadn't come here expecting to discuss the king with Kinddara. He came here to ask about his Death Note's whereabouts and, if possible, a new arm. But, for some reason, Light finds this conversation far more enticing. Like an apple hanging off a tree asking to be plucked and devoured. Here, Kinddara is spilling everything like some unknown force has commanded her to. A complete turn around from how she was before the fight. He can't walk away from something so tempting.
An idea emerges in Light's head. "What would happen if the king were somehow killed or usurped?"
Kinddara falls silent, and Light worries he may have jeopardized his chances. "I'm not sure. Nobody except Armonia would know that."
"Armonia?" Light wonders who she might be. Another high-ranking Shinigami, no doubt. Light groans at the thought of yet another obstacle in his way. But at least he may have a method of taking down the god king. "Where may I find this Armonia?"
Kinddara's nails sink into the cup, and she shakes her head and touches her face, as if coming out of some trance. "You…you're not leaving. The crowd still demands blood. You'll be fighting tomorrow."
It feels as if a boulder has fallen onto Light's chest. "Wait, I thought I was promised freedom once I'd won."
Something releases from Kinddara's throat that sounds somewhere in between a chortle and a scoff. "Come now, it shouldn't be hard for you. After all, you betrayed your closest companion. I can't allow someone as cold-hearted as you to leave. The audience wouldn't forgive me." She strolls over to the table and lifts the pitcher to reveal something underneath. "After all, you belong to me." She flaps the notebook in her hand.
Light's eyes widen at his Death Note.
Just then, the doors fly open and two followers charge in.
"Escort our champion to his quarters," Kinddara orders them. "I want him to be well prepared for tonight's celebratory banquet."
Before Light can say anymore, he's pulled out of Kiddara's quarters and half-dragged down a sharp flight of stairs to a room a few floors below. The room appears like another holding cell, only with a better view of the arena. The cell door locks behind him, leaving Light alone with the window and his half-empty cup of dull wine.
He places the wine down on the floor and takes a seat near the windowsill. Then he notices something moving in the corner of his eye. "You can come out now."
The wall across from him distorts, as if hiding an illusion. Then pieces of it fall to the ground and come together to form a puddle. The puddle rises and shapes into a solid form.
Ryuzaki cracks his neck and stretches out any tension in his body. "So, was my 'death' worth the information?"
"She has my Death Note," Light reveals.
The pale man flops down next to Light and nibbles on his bottom lip. "You didn't take it? Should I be surprised? You risked killing me in order to save yourself, but in doing so you missed your only chance of taking back the notebook. It's official—you're an idiot."
"She has my Death Note, and she's putting me back into the arena tomorrow," Light says between gritted teeth. "Another fucking fight." He slams his only fist against the rock wall. "Even if I had asked for the Death Note back I doubt she would've let me walk out of here without another scratch." He glances at his empty left sleeve.
"Then let's break out," Ryuzaki proposes.
"That's ridiculous."
"Why?" Ryuzaki leans forward. "We're already in a bind. Why not add to the plate?"
"They'll know I'm gone before the celebratory banquet tonight. Besides, you remember who's responsible for getting us in here? You! If you hadn't attacked those slavers, we could have been in the city unchained. If not for you, I may have the Death Note right now. If not for y—"
Ryuzaki snatches Light's collar. "Don't. Insult. Me." His voice is thick and hoarse. Then he tosses Light to the ground. "If Kira had seen what those slavers were doing, he would've killed them. Don't think just because we're on the same side, you have a right to criticize me. I'm a lot stronger than before. And a lot meaner. Choose your words wisely, Light Yagami."
Light recovers and sits up. "I'm sorry." The perfunctory apology comes out with reluctance. After a pause, he says, "But we can't break out. That'll cause too much unwanted attention, and Kinddara may do something to my Death Note—burn it, rip it apart, we just can't."
Ryuzaki squats down to his level, the ire in his eyes simmering as quickly as it had arrived. "Then I guess you've got to play it her way." He purses his lips. "Unless…you challenge her directly."
Light raises a brow. "You have a proposal?"
"Tell me, Yagami-kun, from your experience, do all Shinigami possess Death Notes?"
Light nods.
"And do all these Death Notes act as phylacteries?"
"In the past, no. Shinigami could only die if they extended the life of someone who was meant to die. If a Shinigami dies, his or her notebook is left behind for someone else to take. Some can be in possession of two Death Notes." He remembers his own experience with this.
"Then why did those slaves die when their Death Note's were destroyed?"
Light shrugs. "I can only assume Kami has toyed with the status quo. He must be thinking of ways to entertain himself and his underlings. Why would they have fighting pits or slavery otherwise?"
"I see," Ryuzaki says, tapping his finger to his bottom lip. "He's even more ruthless than Kinddara."
"You still haven't told me your proposal."
"Ah, that's right." Ryuzaki raises both hands with his palms facing Light. "Imagine my hands are Kinddara's Death Note and your Death Note. What's the difference?"
Light looks back and forth between them and blinks. "There isn't one."
"Exactly," Ryuzaki says with a slight pitch change in his normally morose voice. "So if your Death Note is your Achille's heel, imagine what Kinddara's Death Note is to her."
"So your plan is to find Kinddara's Death Note and use it against her somehow?"
"Of course."
"That would be nice if I didn't have to worry about fighting tomorrow and also knew where it was."
Ryuzaki remains unfazed. "That's why you need to challenge her. Kinddara loves the masses. She feeds off their excitement. What better way to entertain them then to fight the Queen of Blood herself? That would be the fight of the century. No, the millennium." He bounces on the balls of his feet, as if giddy.
"She'd annihilate me."
"That's why I'll pose as you. Given that you can't fight, you'll be more valuable searching for her Death Note while I distract everyone." A short groan escapes his throat. "Yet again."
"And how will we do that if they're supposed to think you're dead?" Light counters, and gestures to his severed arm. "And I only have one arm here to work with, unlike you."
"Because you're going to stand up at the banquet tonight in front of everyone and challenge Kinddara herself. She won't be able to refuse in front of her people. Kinddara isn't like that. Tomorrow morning, I'll wear your clothes and obscure my face." He pulls his hood over his head for emphasis. "Kinddara won't ask questions. She can't show hesitation before an audience. As a lover of all fighting, she'll accept any challenger."
"True." Light thinks about how sparsely furnished Kinddara's room had been. "But what about the arm issue?"
Ryuzaki lifts the sleeve of Light's long coat to examine the severity. "The wound's still fresh." His lips purse. "I wonder." He rolls up the sleeve to expose the injury and then rolls up his own and grabs his forearm. Without much warning, he twists his left arm and then pops it out of its socket. Light tenses from the disturbing sound. Then he twists again and severs the limb from his being. Light stifles a gasp as Ryuzaki presses his severed limb against his companion's torn forearm. Slowly but surely, the skin repairs itself together like tiny threads. Once Ryuzaki's arm has been connected, Light squeezes the hand—his hand now— into a fist and feels the fingernails dig into the palm.
"There, now I'll be able to impersonate you even better," Ryuzaki says.
"How did you—thank you," Light breathes, looking back up to his companion. "Really."
Ryuzaki's eyebrows rise for a moment, and he scratches his thick head of black hair. "Y-you're welcome." He clears his throat. "Anyway, back to the plan…Kinddara's Death Note."
Light takes a moment to compose himself as well. "Right, I don't think she's dumb enough to leave her Death Note lying around in the open."
A crooked smile crawls up the pale man's face. "When I think really hard, I like to play a game. I assume the role of my enemy. I imagine being in their shoes, walking their steps, speaking in their voice. I try to envision their life as mine." He leans in close. "Now imagine you're Kinddara, Yagami-kun. Where would be the one place you could always keep your Death Note hidden?"
It doesn't take long for Light to catch on. He mirrors Ryuzaki's expression. "My throne."