I'm sitting in a chair in a pure-white cell, my head bowed, head pounding like never before. I can hear Misa down the hall, screaming and crying about betrayal and Kira. This has been going on since we got here and her questioning ended, about four hours ago. Her high-pitched voice is not helping my headache, and she's just getting really fucking annoying. "Oh, shut up!" I screech, and she's silenced, most likely from shock. "I don't want to hear anymore of your bitching or your bullshit, Misa Amane!"
I know the Task Force, my mother, and Sayu all heard me. They are watching through a live video surveillance, the camera placed just above me. I can't bring myself to look at the lens, mostly because of pain but partly because I don't want to reveal my secret. Everything would change, I know it. I don't want anyone else to know. It's bad enough that Misa knows, but luckily, during her questioning - a very successful torture procedure that got a lot out of her - she did not reveal my Sight. L listened to the recording, and is now trying to pry the meaning of 'I guess I was wrong, though, about you not having them, since I had no idea what your name was when I saw you,' out of me. I haven't given them anything yet, and I know it's frustrating them all.
L's voice calls over the intercom a few more times, repeating the question over and over again in different forms. I don't even look up. It's been going on for approximately two hours, and I can block it out successfully. I do look up, however, when my mother's soothing voice echoes throughout the holding cell. "Raito, dear, I hope you know that whatever this is, whatever is wrong here, it isn't going to change anything. I, for one, will love you anyway. Please, tell us what's going on," she pleads, anxiousness tainting her tone and giving away her intense worry over me. I don't deserve it.
I'm tempted to tell her, anyway, but I'm still uncertain. As if she can sense my anxiety, my mother continues, "I, and Ryuuzaki, and the rest of the Task Force have to know, so that we can get you out of that cell as soon as possible, darling. Whatever it is, you're probably blowing it all out of proportion, and it's most likely not as life changing as you think it is. Tell me, Raito, please. I beg you."
"But it is," I whisper, bowing my head once more, so they wouldn't see my despair. I feel like a child again. I'm ashamed of my weakness. But then, I think, aren't I entitled to be the child I never got the chance to be, just this once? "It is as life changing as I am making it out to be, because how would you deal with a son, not only so much smarter than all of you, no offense, but also a supernatural freak?"
"You are not a supernatural freak, Raito," Sachiko scolds immediately. "What on earth would make you think that?"
I take a shaky breath. I let the amber shade in my pupils dilate then vanish altogether, my natural crimson red eyes replacing the gold-orange tint that my family and friends were so used to by now. "Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that, Mom, Dad, Sayu?" I ask, tilting my head to the side.
I look at the camera.
For a few minutes, there is silence. Then, unexpectedly, L's voice comes through, "What is wrong with your eyes?" he asks, his voice gentle.
Though he tried to make the question as friendly as possible, it still stings like a bitch. I wince, closing my eyes and looking away. "I was born this way," I say to the empty room. "I know now that they are the same ability that Misa has - the Shinigami Eyes. My Eyes, though, are more advanced, clearly, since I can see her name. My natural eye color is red, and the odd amber is a lighter version my body developed as a shield, probably before I was born. Though, as usual, everything comes at a price. My price is different than Misa's and the other Death Note owners. I get horrible migraines, sometimes lasting for days on end, and other times they become so intense I am rendered helpless and immobile, vulnerable to sunlight and any sort of noise. It is truly like nothing else you've ever felt."
There is silence, then L's voice. "Then you know all of our names?" he asks, almost hesitant.
"Yes," I answer immediately. "Would you like me to tell you?"
"Please."
"Touta Matsuda, Shuichi Aizawa, Kanzo Mogi, and – you probably don't want them you know your real name, am I right, L, Watari?" I ask, as an afterthought, and there is a moment of silence, before I hear L kicking the others out. Their voices are faded, and become gradually more so as they leave.
"Continue," L says, once I hear the soft, barely audible cluck of the door being shut.
"Quillish Wammy and L, how do you pronounce it? Lawliet… Law-LEE-et or Low-Light or what? I've never come across it."
L's voice sounds faint over the intercom, like he's in shock or something. "You had it right the first time: Law-LEE-et. It's English. You also got it right when you guessed I was British - I lived there from ages five to thirteen, and even now that is my base of operations."
I look back at the camera, intrigued. But more questions will have to wait. "So, am I cleared?" I ask hopefully, and I hear him sigh.
"Yes," he says. "You're cleared. Now that I know what's wrong with you, I can let you go. However, I will have to ask that you keep all of this information a secret. You cannot tell anyone -"
"I know," I cut him off irritably. "But I don't think that whole 'secret' part is really necessary, since you're not kicking me off of this case. You're not getting rid of me that damn easily."
Silence. I seem to be stunning him a lot today. "You're in college, Light-kun," L says, like he's trying to pacify me, "If you drop out, then you won't get the required degrees needed to join the police -"
I cut him off again. "And you think I care?" I scoff. "Honestly, I never wanted to join the police, I'd much rather do detective work, but I can't be a detective without being a policeman first. Besides, I'm sure I could take the tests right now and pass college with flying colors by tomorrow. You know I could, so if I just order them, that solves the college issue. Care to come up with any other crappy excuse?"
"…I don't have one," he says, and I can't help it - I start laughing quietly, trying to keep the noises and movements muffled as not to aggravate my migraine. I can hear him laughing, too, probably because of the sudden lack of intense stress caused by my mystery. Watari comes in after a second and unlocks my handcuffs and the chains at my feet, while I try and catch my breath. I don't try to stand, knowing I will probably collapse if I tried. I haven't had another dose on the migraine medication.
Watari starts to leave, most likely expecting me to follow, but turns back around when he realizes I haven't moved at all. I'm still sitting in the warm, plastic chair, chains around my feet. "Come, Light-kun," he says, gesturing me forward.
I give a little hiccoughing laugh, then shake my head minutely. "Can't," I whisper. "I'd collapse."
"A headache?" L inquires.
"Yeah," I reply. "It's been here for hours…maybe seven? I'm not sure."
"Seven hours?" Watari repeats, shocked. "You've had a migraine for seven hours and no one was informed?"
I glance at him. "I once had one that lasted for six days and I never told a soul."
"Light-kun," L's voice says sternly, "this is why I have never supported the phrase, 'Suffer in Silence'. It's a wonder you've been managing to function all this time."
I blink, slowly. "It's fading now," I tell them. "Because I've let myself relax."
"This has to do with the Eyes?"
"Mhm," I hum. "At least, I think so. It would make sense, since I have to relax them to get them to go away. My painkillers help, a little -" I shut my mouth. I shouldn't have said that, since they're a little less than legal.
But L lets it go. Thank God, I think. "Watari, fetch Mr. and Mrs. Yagami, please. I think they ought to be aware of this, don't you?"
Watari nods and leaves the room, the door still open. I bow my head, thankful for the chance to be so open for the first time in my life. It's more comfortable to talk to L, though. I don't know how Dad and Sayu will react. Mom said it wouldn't change anything - but I cannot be sure. I hear footsteps and I look at the door again. Watari walks through the doorway and hands me two pills and he goes to hand me a glass of water, but I take the pills dry. He blinks, then shrugs and holds onto the small glass.
More footsteps, much more timid than those of Watari, echo down the hall. After a moment, during which I hear muffled whispers, the footsteps speed up. My mother rushes into my cell and Watari steps out of the way. She kneels in front of me and stares into my eyes, clearly hesitant and fascinated all at once. I can see my father and Sayu follow at a much slower pace, and Watari slips from the room. I hear a soft click as the camera is turned off for privacy reasons. I thank L silently, grateful for the small favor.
"Raito," Sachiko says quietly. She stops talking when I focus on her, staring straight into her eyes. I can see my reflection in her chocolate brown gaze, as well as the letters of my name in kanji characters, floating above my reflection's head. I wonder sometimes what people's reflection looks like to them, and what I look like in their eyes. I bet whatever impression they had previously is gone now, replaced by whatever they think of when they see the red tint where my eyes should be. Now I wonder what they're thinking - what exactly do I see when I look at them? "How long?" she asks finally, and I'm drawn from my thoughts. I know she knows that even though I locked her gaze, I am still not looking at her.
"What do you mean, how long?" I question. That question could have many meanings, including a few I cannot share.
"How long until we die?" Mom elaborates, and I wince.
I shake my head. "No," I tell her firmly, then look around at Dad and Sayu. "I will not tell you - it's horrible, knowing something like that. It causes me grief everyday, and I will not have you going through the same pain. Trust me, Mom," I refocus on her, hoping this will drive home, "you don't want to know when you die."
"Do you know when you'll die?" Sayu blurts, and I glance at her and shake my head. She looks surprised, but okay with the answer. "And you've had these since you were born?" she asks, and I nod. She huffs out a laugh. "How did we never notice?" I shrug.
"Maybe you didn't want to," I reply in a whisper. The medicine hasn't kicked in yet. It seems, almost like, now that I've made others aware that I'm in pain a lot, it just intensified. "Maybe I am an excellent liar, actor. Maybe, maybe, maybe. So many different answers to that question, Sayu, I don't know where to begin. I don't really want to, either, not right now." I glance behind me and look towards my father, then back to my mother, who is kneeling in front of me, my hands in hers. When did she do that? I wonder vaguely, then decide I just don't care. Everything is hitting me now - I really told them, didn't I? They really know. And they haven't run yet.
My mother tightens her grip on my hands and I focus on her again, a question on my lips. She shakes her head, and sighs. "You must be tired, dearest. So much has happened in the past few hours, and I can see that it's just setting in." She smiles at me, and stands, pulling lightly on my hands to make me follow. Instinctively, I follow my mother's silent command, and, since I am so used to working through a migraine, I don't sway, and I don't fall over. I do, however, close my eyes against a dizzy spell. At least now I'm on my feet. My father rushes over and wraps one arm around my shoulders, to give me support, so I don't have to bear the entire weight of my body against the pain in my head.
I don't normally take well to being coddled. I don't like it - I'm not one for human touch at all, actually. But this is okay. More than okay, actually. I don't like the idea of them knowing, and I know it will take time for us all to adjust to the idea. But for now…