Dawn
Light didn't need to kill this way, not really. Not while he had the notebook.
But Beyond didn't want him to kill like that. Liked it better up close. Liked to feel.
So Light settled for knives and guns, feeling more righteous with each body that hit the ground. Criminals, all of them.
Unclean.
He was God, wiping the world of all its filth.
And with his hands bathed in the blood of sinners and his lover by his side (Beyond's arms were spread out wide in triumph and he was laughing gaily in the evening breeze—Light thought him quite the angel), Yagami Light felt nothing short of holy.
