Chapter 18 — Crazy Days / Crazy Feelings

Heavy, like the humid air that is left after the rain has lifted—that was how the room felt when Yomotsu sat himself down. He made a spot for himself at the edge of the bed. Heavy—that was how his body felt, heavy like the air and the situation. Heavy, as though large vat of molasses had been dumped on them, and it was slowly seeping through every opening, filling their lives and bodies.

Fragrant—but a fragrance layered—was this basement, where so much crying and sweat and frustration culminated. Yuri was behind him, lying in his bed. He was on his back. Yomotsu imagined that the white sheet was covering his body like a corpse's shroud. The black bedspread was bunched up at the foot of the bed. But it was fragrant, he recalled, yes, fragrant—with the peculiar smell of Yuri, which he could not describe but knew well by now. Fragrant, also, because of the cologne Luke wore, which had a generic "manly" smell.

That was the smell that Mercy would have taken in, when she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, on the lips, on the neck, where his heart and mind were. For now the room was warm, but not the warmth that sooths the cold away, but the warmth of blood coming out from a wound. Yes, the basement was warm, as well, but not hot. Definitely not hot. It was just warm and muggy.

Yuri's hands were folded over his stomach. His eyes were probably closed, but maybe they were open. Yomotsu's were open, toward the carpet. His brows were furrowed forward. Luke was pacing. He could hear his progression along the carpet, and he could hear his words, and he could hear the waterfall in the wall, at the other end of the basement. He could hear the ticking of a clock suspended near the top of the stairs.

And so it was that Yomotsu and Yuri were on the bed, listening to Luke, in a heavy, fragrant, warm—but not hot—environment, in which the sounds of Luke's memories and accentuations, as well as his pacing, water, and a clock ticking, were the sounds the jumped at Yomotsu. And so it was that, in the crazy days in which they lived, Luke offered up his hurt.

"Halloween, you know—God, it's been 11 days already—you know… I can't decide if 11 days feels too long, or too short. Like, I don't feel like it's been 11 days already since this all happened, because it is still there, like I'm still living it right now, but it also, you know… It also feels like it's been a lot longer. Nothing is moving in my life, right now. I'm just standing here. And, anyway, Halloween… On Halloween, there was just no sign of this. Nothing. I mean, I thought something might be up, but she then would show me she was fine, and really, I was hoping and thinking she was telling me the truth. You have to have trust in a relationship, after all, and if I can't trust her when she tells me about herself, the one thing she knows more about than anything else, then what can I trust her about? And, so, when she told me she'd tell me what was up when she was ready, of course I was worried. I mean, I was really worried. But I just didn't think it would be this. I thought, you know, maybe I had said something that had offended her or done something wrong, but then again, I also couldn't think of anything I'd done wrong. I'd been nothing but kind and caring with her, and so I thought maybe there was something else going on, with her. And I was worried, because I wanted to make sure she was okay, you know? And so we go to the Halloween Party. And she's dressed in this… Well, it's really weird. She was dressed like the 12th. The black tights and belt, and everything. But her mask was this kinda mosaic of eyeballs, just a whole bunch of them all over, plus the two holes for her actual eyes. It was pretty unexpected. And so I asked her about it, and she said, 'I really like the 12th.' And I thought, that makes sense, since a lot of people do. But this is the first I had heard her say that, but when I asked her more, she started to dodge the subject. So I let it go, and we had fun. More her than me, though. I was having fun, but I kept looking back, because I was worried. And I'd check, not knowing what I would expect, really, but I would be glad to know she was looking happy. Because, of course, I was happy to see my girlfriend happy. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something was going on, something worse beyond the surface. Now I wish she had just started breaking down. That sounds awful, but it would make it so much easier to deal with, you know? Then I'd feel like I was worth something, if she would have cried. If she would've said that she couldn't go to the party, because it felt wrong. Because she was too emotional, or something. Because then that means I would've affected her. But no. She was having fun at the party, with her friends, and she wanted me to do the same, but it isn't that easy. I drove her home, and on the way, I asked her, as I told you guys, I asked her, 'What was bothering you, earlier?' And she told me, she told me word-for word, 'I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. A lot of serious thinking about myself and where I want to go, and where I am now. And I sort of realized that there are some things in my life right now that I just am not really interested in any more, some things that I don't understand any more. Not saying they aren't good; they just are not what I thought I was looking for. And, Luke, I'm sorry, but, I have been looking at our relationship, and I just think we need to take a break, for a while. Possibly a long break, until I know what I want from you. But right now, I like you as a friend. I really do. And of course I think you're a great person, and I have been lucky to be so happy with you. But I can't get justice off my mind. I realized that I can't be with you any longer, when I realized you weren't the 12th. Not that I necessarily assumed you were before, but lately, I realized that if I can't love my boyfriend more than some stranger in a mask, then the love can't be real, and the relationship can't be what's best for me. I'm sorry, Luke.' And, you know, I said I understood. But I'll tell you, ha, I'll tell you—I don't. How can she replace me with some freak in a mask? Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for what he and Lunatic do to keep our town safe, but falling in love with one of them is like any celebrity crush, only a bit more absurd. Because at least the celebrities might have real lives underneath their persona. The 12th… He just seems one-dimensional. And how can I be OK being replaced by someone like that? I wish, I wish I could at least see the face of the guy I'm being replaced by, you know? I wish I at least knew who was taking my girlfriend away from me."

Yomotsu's mouth was dry. He breathed in, and he felt like he was going to choke. He nodded.

"I don't think it's the 12th's fault that she has an interest in him," Yuri pronounced carefully. "Rather, it is no one's fault, necessarily. It is weird, and it's unfortunate—very unfortunate—but not something that someone can be blamed for."

Yomotsu was still nodding. He stopped, and inside his heart, thanked Yuri.

"I know it's awful of me," Luke continued, "But I wish I had someone I could blame. Things would make a lot more sense, that way… In a just world where everything could be explained with reason. But people aren't like that, are they? And no one can really do anything about it. Heck, the only person she would listen to now is the 12th himself. And really, things have been so awful since the breakup. You've seen me at work. I'm a wreck. And she's just, normal. She's acting fine. She's happy. And here I am, miserable. How can she be happy? How can she just act like it's okay? How can she just move on, like I'm not here? Ever since Halloween, I've been living in Hell. And no one cares. No one could possibly understand what it feels like. Ha, and really, how could I expect anything different? Everyone lives their own little lives, in their own little worlds, until they finally connect with that one person who really gets it, who really gets them—they connect with that person, and then they share their own little world. And now she's broken that, for me, for us. She's disconnected that for… some fantasy. For someone who isn't even there. And here I am, trying to live in a world we used to live in together. Trying to live alone, in a world meant for two people. And I find her footprints everywhere, everywhere I go. And I'm trying to compensate—but how? How do I keep this up? I met someone who understood me, and she was with me, she was there, and suddenly, she's now not… She was just there, and I could hold her, and now, now what? What? What?"

Luke dropped to his knees. Yomotsu heard it, and he heard the crying. It began with normal sobbing, but then it took on a more primal, animal-like cry, like an animal whose leg had been caught between rocks and was now crying out toward the disinterested wilderness. It was a desolate sound.

"Hiro," Luke howled, through his tears, "What do I do? What do I even do?"

Yomotsu wanted to shrug, but that felt cruel. So he went and hugged him.

Luke left at 10 pm that night. They ate pizza and played Soul Calibur III, after the appropriate emotions were expressed. They made funny-looking characters based on other Yum Yums employees. Luke left, and everyone was in better spirits.

But that did not shake away what had transpired earlier. Yuri commended Yomotsu for keeping quiet about what they knew about Mercy, about her identity as the 12th stalker he had previously seen. They had caught each other up to speed about that, and Yuri was surprised to hear that Yomotsu had not even previously noticed he was being observed so closely. It made Yuri a little nervous, but that was all.

And then they parted. Yomotsu went to his room, and Yuri went into the basement. It was late. Yuri considered a shower. It would have felt good. A nice, hot shower. To cleanse him of the day. But he decided the day was not done, and so with the rest of the day still clinging on to him, he carried on to his computer.

The tests were finishing up. The results had simply been processing for a while. The power outage had forced him to start the process over. He looked at his computer. It was wirelessly connected to an advanced scanner, a newer piece of technology courtesy of Dr. Saito. With the help of Dr. Saito, Yuri was able to negotiate a means to connect to a stream of information that crossed borders. He could access immense databases worth of personal information, the likes of which would turn rotten in any government's possession, the likes of which could do terrible things in the wrong hands. And it was kept in some suburban basement.

He had used it prior to tonight, to research Bryce Wayne for example, but this was its shining moment. It was going to catch a Kira. Yuri had offered to his technology the scrap of paper from the Death Note, and it was fingerprint analysis.

"I have a crazy feeling," Yuri had said, earlier that same day. "That we're going to know who Kira is soon."

Yomotsu had chuckled. "I have lots of crazy feelings, but right now, none of them are telling me anything useful. They just want me to keep organizing the house and deep-clean the bathroom."

And for crazy days like this one, crazy feelings were what Yuri trusted most. When nothing else made sense, the truth made sense not to make sense, either. And so it was that, when the results of the test popped up on the screen, nothing made sense.

Yet, in that moment, everything clicked.

And Yuri became Lunatic.

And he took the sky and used its expanse to work his way toward a house.

And Lunatic burned a hole through the roof.

He remained there, a hovering silhouette against the black sky. The smoldering roof gave off enough light to make the outline of his form luminous, that, and the light of the bedside lamp. A figure looked up from where he stood.

"Gee, a personal visit from the legendary Lunatic… Very kind of you."

Lunatic was breathing heavy. "You... You are Kira."

The figure smiled. "That's a rather extreme accusation… No one knows who Kira is. But, I have been expecting you. And anyone who has been expecting Lunatic has to be guilty of something, right?" The figure laughed. "So, please. State my crime. Treat me like another criminal, if that's what you think I am."

He floated there. "Repent…" He descended. "And I shall hold back the fire of your punishment."

Again, the figure laughed. "It's that difficult, huh? Is it because it's me that's Kira… Or because you don't honestly think that Kira is just a criminal?"

Lunatic aimed his crossbow. The tip began to burn its bright hues of green and blue. "Repent, Light Yagami, wielder of the Death Note," Lunatic declared. "Your time of judgment has finally arrived."

The figure was unmoved. "What happens to me now? You kill me in the name of your 'justice'? Or… Perhaps…?" While Lunatic still pointed his crossbow at him, his opponent pointed straight back at him. "Are you really too scared to challenge Kira? Or, better yet… Are you hesitant to kill your friend, 'Luke'?"

Lunatic's fires burned brighter. The flickers from his crossbow licked at the air, and his body began to glow fiercely. The floor upon which he stood began to smoke. "You have no right to use that pseudonym any longer… You never had the right to begin with. Your actions are pure foolishness. You have laid a trap for yourself, and you are heaping upon yourself more punishment. I can only destroy your body, but you have already corrupted your soul beyond any redemption."

Light turned to the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out, from within, the Death Note. He held it up for Lunatic to see, as though the evidence was not already clear. "People are so weak," he mused aloud. "I thought you might be different. And yet, even you trusted Luke. Not enough to play straight into my hand, but this was not altogether unexpected. After all… I have been expecting you."

Lunatic remained locked in this position, physically ready to pull the trigger and light the Death Note on fire. But his body was a machine, and the conductor was lost. And he knew that destroying the Death Note could mean that Light would die, and not even the 12th's creeds were in the way here: he just saw the face where his weapons was aimed and he saw Luke. He could not kill Kira without killing Luke.

"Why…?" He lowered the crossbow's aim. "Why?"

Light idly paged through the pages of the Death Note he had been filling. "I was bored…" He glanced up after a few more pages. "But, you see, this notebook has a power that makes anybody want to try using it at least once."

Lunatic was in disbelief. "Bored…?"

"Humans get bored so easily." Lunatic turned his head, and there was Ryuk, standing on his hands, on the bed. His feet were almost touching the low-hanging ceiling. "It takes several hundred years for Shinigami to get bored like humans do."

It was Light who spoke next. "As I presumed, you have touched the scrap of the Death Note, and you can see and hear Ryuk. It seemed like the most likely course of action. You're aware of your surroundings. I knew that wouldn't get past you."

The vigilante's free hand was tightened into a flaming fist. The blue-green fire was spreading from his feet to a small area around where he stood. "I cannot tell if it was courage or inanity that compelled you to try to incriminate Meilag, by leaving that piece of evidence. Without it, I would not have been able to discover your identity as Kira."

Light smiled and closed the Death Note. "I've been playing with fire from the start, taking all kinds of risks. And each of those risks has actually helped make me safer." If Lunatic's face could have been read under the mask, it would have betrayed his confusion. Light was able to ascertain this simply by his silence and posture, however. "The 12th already knew I was Kira. He would have told you, in a matter of time. But I wanted to meet you under these circumstances, first."

Now Lunatic was truly dumbfounded. "Wh-what?" He lost his menacing composure. He could not even pretend to be the Lunatic persona at a time like this. "He did not hint at suspecting you."

There was a spark in Light's eye. "There's a lot more that goes on in his head than what he tells you. I thought you would have been the first to have noticed, but you have allowed your hallowed judgment to become cloudy. But I noticed. He has had this figured out for some time now. I noticed the way he was observing me. Even in his tone, he knew. For at least a week now. You see…"

Light set the Death Note down on the nightstand. He walked closer to Lunatic, halving the distance between them, and then stopped. "You already knew this, but in case you have forgotten: Humans are foolish, two-faced creatures. In human society, there are very few people who truly trust each other."

Lunatic shook his head. "The 12th does not know you're Kira. He would have told me, if he knew."

"But did you tell him, when you figured it out?" Light smiled.

The fire broke out toward him. "That's different. I have the technology available to be certain, and I had the evidence. He had nothing substantial to work with… If you hadn't been foolish enough to leave that scrap of paper, it would have been impossible to discover this."

Light laughed. "Don't you see? He did not need that obvious piece of evidence—he knew without it! I only set that there, to draw out your suspicion and lead you to me!"

Lunatic swiped his free hand through the air and roared back, "Yomotsu could never figure this out by himself! He wouldn't even be where he is today without me! He would still be regarded as a freak, an incompetent pariah who only dreams of being a true hero!"

"Y-Yuri?"

Lunatic turned around, in a frenzy, and the flames between him and Light leapt up at the sight—the 12th was perched on roof, peering in from above.

"Yomotsu," Light rolled the name on his tongue. "Yomotsu…" He reached for the Death Note.