An unbridled fear filled my veins. What I had seen in my dream had come to pass. Despite my best efforts I could not concoct a feasible explanation that could disprove what had happened, I had seen it with my own eyes. It was unfathomable, I couldn't believe…no I refused to believe that my dreams of death were actual depictions of those to come. If I did, then I would have to consider the possibility that my dreams of my father's death would occur in the not so far future. If there were real, it meant that my father would have been dead by the end of that year. No! It just couldn't be real, I denied it with every logical reason as to why they couldn't be real I could come up with. I loved my father, respected him and cherished the moments he would spend with me and Sayu when he wasn't at work. I may had been resentful for the way he treated me as something broken when I was younger but still loved him and would do anything to save him.

That night I dreamt of my father's death again, the numbers at the end, the date he would day remained the same, burning into mind. I awoke with a start, tears trailed down my cheeks. With shaking hands, I wiped them away.

The next night, in my dreams I saw a group of thugs harassing a young girl before their leader was hit by an oncoming truck. In the distance stood a figure watching over the scene, his eyes had a menacing gleam and held what appeared to be…pride. Nothing useful about his appearance could be gleamed. His features were shrouded in shadows. A strange aura surrounded him. He had caused the death and the death of Otoharada Kurou. I couldn't explain it but simply knew despite knowing nothing of him or having any proof. I knew it was him.

I had a few nights of piece before my dreams started again. Night after night I was bombarded with images of people dying, all I knew now to be criminals of some kind or other. The number increased every night and soon I was tormented by hundreds of deaths every night. I would awake in a cold sweat and my head throbbing, the pain near agonizing. The pain killers stopped working and I had no escape. Some headaches lasted hours and in the morning there were times when I could barely walk due to the pain or disorientation. I tried to hide it but when the pain was too much my mother would notice and send me back up to bed, refusing to listen to my protests about having to go to school.

I ended missing three days of school and was thankful when the weekend came so I didn't have to worry about any more work piling up. Though I supposed it wouldn't take me long to catch up, my homeroom teacher was going to email all of my work to me if I still wasn't in the following Monday to collect it.

At times I turned on my television to watch the news and found that the people I saw dying in my dreams had died of heart attacks, they were happening around the world. I searched online and found that people were starting to believe that a divine entity was killing these criminals as some sort of divine retribution and had dubbed them Kira after the English word killer. It was the man I saw in my dreams, he occupied nearly all of them, those same eyes and a vicious laugh that sent chills down my spine. He had killed so many and yet his eyes could be filled with such mirth or pride and arrogance as though what he was doing was an accomplishment, a deed for the good of all humanity. It made vile rise in my throat. There was indeed evil in the world and may had suffered for it. That still didn't make what he was doing right, murder was wrong no matter who carried it out. I believed in justice and thought that criminals should be punished but according to our laws. I hoped that he would be caught. Of course the idea of telling the police what I knew had crossed my mind and then quickly dismissed. They would think me mad and demand proof that I could not provide despite the apparent supernatural nature of the murders. I hoped he would be caught, I prayed for it even so that I might get some peace from the pain.