Welcome to chapter ten! This one was a serious challenge, and I really hope I did okay in the last scene with explaining what path the story will be taking. It was extremely difficult to write while still keeping relatively in line with the rules of the Death Note and memory loss/gain.
Thank you if you left a review on the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one—and I really hope I don't confuse anyone with that final scene.
Chapter 10: The Sight
L's fingers drummed restlessly on the top of his desk. One hand rested listlessly on the computer mouse, scrolling down the document displayed on his computer screen without really taking any of it in. His mind was elsewhere, as it had been since Light was taken. Of course, he'd done his best to make sure neither the task force nor the successors could tell how unfocused he really was—but the successors, at least, seemed to have figured out how shaken Light's capture had left him. Every moment he spent in the investigation room, knowing that Beyond no doubt had his hands all over Light at that very moment, made him feel more and more restless. He longed to throw himself from the dark, dreary investigation room and sprint from the building, to let his feet carry him to Light's side. He wanted to escape the monitor and its dull, infernal glow. He wanted to flee the stifling silence. He wanted to duck out on his responsibilities and forget that with every moment he wasted in the investigation room, Beyond could be doing any number of indescribable things to the teen he now had in his possession. But most of all, L wanted Light. He wanted to pull the teen close and shield him from the outside world, to stitch up his wounds and hide him from Beyond forever. He wanted to be close to the teen, to kiss away his pain. But as long as Light remained in Beyond's hands, none of his desires could come to fruition. It was infuriating, sitting around chasing shadows while Light suffered. It made L's heart twist painfully in his chest.
"This is hopeless," Mello murmured, breaking the silence.
There was a slight rustle as papers shifted, then the squeaking of wheels as a chair spun around. "Mello!" Matt snapped harshly. His eyes darted to L nervously, fearing his reaction.
"No," L responded flatly, eyes staring blankly straight ahead. "He's right." The detective tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. No matter how hard he tried to focus, his mind just kept drifting back to Light. "It… it's been ten days."
A terrible silence settled over the task force. Each member paused their work, looking to the source of the noise. Mello's voice was the first sound to break the silence in many days, and each person seemed eager to listen to something other than the dull hum of the computers.
"It is entirely possible…" L went on painfully, "…that Light is already dead."
"Don't say that!" Soichiro snapped, his fist slamming against his desk. "You said yourself that Beyond wants to use him as bait, so he'll keep him alive!"
"No," L said softly. "He doesn't have to keep him alive to use him as bait. The mere hope that he still draws breath is enough to keep us searching for him. In fact, the best thing to do at this point would be to give up, don't you think? We're not accomplishing anything, and our time could be much better spent on other things." He didn't believe that. He didn't believe a word of it, and after the words left his lips, he wanted to snatch them back and pretend they'd never slipped out. He cared for Light, cared for him so, so much… He wouldn't give up. But despite his desire to take back the venomous words, he said nothing.
Mello, Mat, and Near froze the instant L's words hit their ears, shared expressions of horror on their faces.
"Give up?" Soichiro roared. "Don't you dare tell me to give up on my son! He's got to be alive, and we've got to find him!"
"Of course we're going to find him!" Matt leapt to his feet and reached for L, pulling him up. "There's every possibility that he's still alive, and even if he's not, we're still going to work towards recovering him!"
Soichiro glared viciously as Matt began to pull L from the room. "Excuse us," he said hurriedly, motioning for Mello and Near to follow him. "We need to have a little talk."
The instant they were in a place where they wouldn't be heard, Matt whirled around and curled his fingers into L's collar, shaking him vigorously. "How can you say we should give up?" he demanded harshly, emotionally. "He's your boyfriend! You can't just forget about him and move on!"
L's eyes were blank. He felt empty, useless. He should take his words back, should explain to the successors what had possessed him to say such a terrible thing. But words escaped him, flitted on the edges of his mind. He felt terribly listless, but was unable to find a way to rid himself of that nervous energy. What was the point of being the world's three greatest detectives if he couldn't even find one man? "I'm depressed," he said flatly. "Excuse me for being down about the fact that the one person that cared for me as much as I did him is being tortured at this very moment."
Matt released him and took a step back, his expression one of horror. "L, you can't give up! Light is counting on you to find him! What is he going to think if he suffers through Beyond's torture and then dies because you refused to continue looking for him?"
That wasn't going to happen. L would continue looking, no matter what, and he would find Light. He wanted to explain, to tell the successors that the words hadn't been his own—but his jaw seemed locked. Why couldn't he tell the successors that he hadn't meant it? Why were his words so useless, so venomous? L's mind whirred furiously, forcing him to consider Matt's question. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to imagine what Light was enduring for him. And if after all that, the teen thought that L wasn't coming, that he'd left him…Light would be distraught. He would think that L had abandoned him.
Near pushed Matt aside gently, asking, "Is this because you don't want to put all of us in danger? Is it because you think that you're leading us right into Beyond's hands? Because that monster is going to go after us no matter what we do, whether or not you decide to lead us in pursuit of him. So you shouldn't have any qualms about leading us towards Beyond in an attempt to track Light down. You could save his life."
"I might bring him to death." And that part was true. But no matter what, L knew that he couldn't just give up. He would do anything to get Light back, even if it all amounted to nothing, and Light was already dead. So why couldn't he say it?
"L, I want you to listen to me very carefully." Near leaned one arm on the wall beside L's head, keeping his voice even and calm despite the flickers of irritation in his eyes. "If you do nothing, Light Yagami is going to die. And if you do nothing, his death will be on your conscience. His blood will be splattered across your hands for the rest of your life."
L's felt his expression of calm crumple. No… why was Near saying this? He knew that already, he did! He wouldn't just leave Light to die! His knees buckled against his will, and he was suddenly kneeling on the ground, hands pulling at his hair. "Light…" he choked out, fighting a swell of panic building in his chest. "Light!"
Matt shot a chastising look in Near's direction, dropping to his knees and placing a comforting hand on L's shoulder. "You don't have to be alone on this," he assured the kneeling detective. "Listen—if Beyond really does intend to use Light as bait for you, then you'll need to have a way to find him. That means he will have left some clue as to Light's location. He hasn't just disappeared; there is something we've overlooked, and there is a way to find Light before he dies. We can do this, L. But you have to come to your senses!"
L's eyes widened as he stared at the floor unseeingly. His mind refused to stop producing Light's face around every corner. Everywhere he looked he saw the teen staring back, demanding to know why he hadn't saved him yet, why he hadn't pulled him from perdition. He knew that it was a figment of his imagination, his mind's way of coping with the grief that was plucking at the strings of his mind. But his own mind was steadily wearing away at his sanity, and it was seemed harder and harder to focus. "I… I don't want to remember," he said after a moment. "I just want to run away and forget."
"You can't."
They were the first words Mello had spoken to him since the investigation room. L eyed him hesitantly. "You were the one that said it was pointless."
He flinched, but he looked angry. "Damn it, L! I was wrong, okay? It's not pointless, I was just upset that we were all so incapable of finding any clues! You're a complete moron if you think that I really believe there's no hope for him! Now, you are going to get up, go in there, and find your boyfriend if it kills you!"
Those words brought a startling bolt of clarity. The haze in L's mind lifted for just a moment, and the figments of Light he'd been seeing were suddenly gone. The death grip on his vocal cords loosened mercifully. "You're right," he rasped. "Light… he told me that it wasn't my fault. But no matter what he says, I know that it was."
"If you really think it's your fault," Mello growled, "then find him and make things right! Sitting here feeling sorry for yourself isn't helping anyone!"
He was right, of course. "I don't really think that," L muttered. "I don't think that we should give up."
"Of course you don't!" Mello snapped angrily. "You're not allowed to give up even if you want to!"
Near interrupted, "You are L. L does not give up. And more importantly, L never leaves a case unsolved. Is Beyond going to be the one to change that?"
"No… no, of course not."
"Then let's find him, shall we?"
L couldn't smile. He wanted to, just to show his successors that he felt slightly better—but his lips refused to move into any expression save the one he was currently wearing. So he settled for looking up at the three teens, all of who were standing around him, wearing identical expressions of concern. He offered them a small nod, then got to his feet, brushing his pants off. He wanted to tell them everything—how empty he felt, the ever-growing panic filling his chest, the way he kept seeing Light at every turn—but the words wouldn't come to him, and he didn't have the will to force them. Slowly, L pushed past his successors and began to trudge back to that dreary investigation room, that hostile computer monitor.
He would find Beyond, he vowed. He would find him and bring him to justice. And when he did, he would wrest Light from his captor, and never let him out of his sight again.
†††
How many days had it been? Five days, ten, twenty? I'd lost count, to be honest. At first I'd used the torture sessions as a gauge to count the days, but then they had begun happening twice, or even three times a day. It was always the same. Beyond would enter the steel room in the morning with his cart of tools and he would set to work with whatever new method he had chosen that day. In the past few days I'd been forced to endure things that I'd only ever read about in books, or seen in movies. I'd been sliced, burned, electrocuted, half-drowned—and then it had all begun anew the next session. Beyond had begun to be quite creative in his methods of torture. There were days when he would handcuff me and drag me into other rooms, each one holding some repulsive device of torture. Of all these hellish devices, the worst one, the one I saw most vividly in nightmares, was a massive glass tank that was designed to fill slowly with water while the victim was chained to the bottom. Beyond had fully taken advantage of that particular device. He seemed to revel in bringing the water level up so high that should rise even an inch higher, I would be unable to breathe. And then he would take it just a little bit further, and I really would be unable to breathe, and I had no way to beg him to stop, even when I felt darkness edging at my vision, and knew that I would fall unconscious if I was left alone for even a moment longer. But Beyond, the bastard, knew exactly how much I could take, and he exceeded at inching just above that level but not leaving me dead. There were several times that I thought he might be about to kill me, thought that I might be able to fade away—but Beyond was too careful for that. Even when I lost consciousness in that terrible tank of water, felt overcome with lightheadedness under that merciless knife, felt my heart skip a beat under the cruel fingers of electricity, I always came back. I always woke up, coughing water from my lungs on a soaked stone floor, writhing in a pool of my own blood, strapped down to a table still ringing with electricity.
Every day ended the same way—Beyond would walk in yet again with a different cart and return to his sexual exploits. I refused to count the number of times I had been forced to beg for him, or take the monster down my throat. I discovered soon enough that he had a repulsive assortment of tools to serve the purpose of torturing me in that most intimate way, and it wasn't long before I was painfully familiar with each of them. And of course, I'd been reintroduced to that phallic toy several times after the initial incident, but Beyond had been careful to make sure that all pleasure had been driven from the experience. Instead I was torn open again and again, forced to scream and beg for mercy that never came. It was agonizing, and if effectively made sure that I never had the strength to attempt an escape or even walk straight. When he finally pulled the horrid thing out of me, or ceased whatever torture he had planned for that day, he would strap me back down to the table, and that was normally the end of it. But the past few days he had returned to his knife the instant after he'd finished having his way with me. The pain then had seemed far greater simply due to physical and mental exhaustion, rising to the point of pure and utter hell. Slowly I could feel even my mental state beginning to degrade. I no longer had the strength to mock him or act as if I wasn't afraid. My perfect mask was cracked, and I had no way of putting it back together. I thought back to L, and the way his mask had been cracked by his insistent affection for me. Being broken by affection, I thought, was far preferable to being broken by pain and fear.
Beyond knew he was winning. That was the worst part. Or maybe the worst part was that L hadn't found me yet. I shuddered at the thought, running my eyes down my battered body. I didn't want to think about the various scars that would cover my body by the time I saw L again. If I saw L again. I was slowly beginning to doubt that he would find me. But I knew that he would do everything in his power to locate me. I was sure…he would find me no matter what it took. If he hadn't rescued me by now, then he must simply have been able to find no clues to lead him to Beyond. I couldn't blame him if Beyond had covered his tracks so well that not even he could find me. It wouldn't be his fault… not really.
What happened to saving myself? I thought bitterly. What happened to protecting L no matter what? Somewhere along the way, I'd completely dropped the notion of rescuing myself. I wasn't sure quite when it had happened, only that once it did, all I could think about was L, and how long it would be before he either found me or gave up. I wasn't an idiot—I knew that by this point, it would be nearly impossible for me to even attempt escape. I was too weak, my body too battered. But I could still hope for L to find me. It was funny… I'd spent so much time worrying about him, worrying about Beyond hurting him or putting him in danger. But I was beginning to realize, more and more as time went on, that maybe L wasn't the one that needed to be protected.
Maybe, just maybe… the weak one was me.
I heard the door open. Immediately I wanted to run, to leap to my feet and scramble away from the man standing in the doorway, the man who wanted to hurt me. But though the thought of running consumed my mind, I barely did so much as to pull weakly at my restraints.
My captor was moving. Beyond eyed me savagely as he moved into the room, approaching the table with the usual cart nowhere in sight. He ran his fingers lightly over my chest, choosing a place just over my heart and pressing lightly. I didn't make a sound despite the horrible jolt that tore through me. He had done nothing to ease the pain in my cracked ribs, and they seemed to be growing worse with each passing day. I feared that they were beginning to heal incorrectly.
"How are you today, Light?" Beyond asked with false concern.
I shook my head weakly, trying to ward him off without moving the rest of my body.
He laughed softly at the display. His fingers reached out, and he began combing them through my hair in a deceptively affectionate gesture.
"We're going to try something different today," he said after a few moments of silence. He held up a pair of handcuffs, prompting a shudder from me. He slipped them onto my wrists and pulled me to my feet, extending a hand to my shoulder when he thought I was going to fall over. These were the moments I didn't understand—how he could go from carving into my flesh to supporting me in a matter of seconds. He walked me back down the steel hallway, constantly in the act of supporting me lest I fall, and for a terrible moment I thought he was going to turn and enter the room with the tank he'd used to nearly drown me. Fortunately he passed that room and led me into a different one. A new one. This room had what appeared to be a dental chair, a table with two black notebooks and a pen, and a stand with a few towels. Beyond sat me down in the chair and unlocked the handcuffs. He bound my arms and legs to the chair with a series of straps, then moved on to place one around my chest and another around my hips. One smaller strap was even secured around my neck, reminding me of a collar.
"What are you going to do?" I managed. My voice was raspy and weak. I'd been given water at some point, I knew—I'd have to have drank something, or I wouldn't still be alive—but it had been far too long since then, and my throat felt like sandpaper.
He pulled up a chair I hadn't seen before and sat down. "Today I'm going to tell you a story."
A flicker of disbelief flared within me. There was no way he'd hauled me to this room just to tell me a story. What was he up to?
Noting my disbelief, Beyond said, "Relax, my Light. If you don't calm down, you won't be able to listen to my story!" He reached over and picked up one of the black notebooks. "Let me begin my explaining something to you. Normally, when I have someone that I want to break, I start by making them beg for mercy, which shatters their pride. They're allowed no clothing, no nourishment, no comfort of any kind. And of course, my victim would be taught to submit willingly to my blade." He reached out to rest his hand lightly on my shoulder, his touch feather-light and teasing. "That I have done to you already. Although, I admit that you're the first victim I've ever turned to in an intimate nature…" he leaned down, and a heartbeat later I felt his tongue sweep up my neck, sending a shudder of disgust tingling up my spine. He purred, "You're just too beautiful for your own good, Yagami." He went on, "The second step in the process of breaking a normal victim would be giving them an order, such as kneeling before me. They would be tortured until they submitted, and then the process would be repeated with another order, and another, until they were completely submissive. However, that process takes too long and isn't always completely effective. It's especially not completely effective against those with a strong will, like you. And while I'd love to keep you here forever, torturing you until your mind shatters, I'm afraid I just don't have the patience or the time. By the time you've been sufficiently punished, L will have found us, and all my fun will be over!" The glint in his eyes scared me. He looked even more psychotic than usual. "So I've decided to cut things a bit short. This way, I'll only have to wait a few more minutes to see my god…" His hand shot out to the table, and he snatched up one of the black notebooks. He held it up so I could see it, displaying white lettering on the front cover. "This is the Death Note," he announced with wild eyes. "It is how Kira kills his victims."
I wanted to laugh. A notebook with the power to kill? Ridiculous!
"This notebook is supernatural," he went on. "If you write someone's full name in the note, then they will die of a heart attack in forty seconds. However, if you wish, you may specify the details of the death within six minutes and forty seconds of writing the full name. This way, Kira can control victims for hours until their deaths." He opened the book and held it out for me to see, flipping through pages that contained nothing but the names of the dead, filling every inch of blank paper without fail. "These notebooks come from the shinigami realm."
"Shinigami aren't real," I rasped. And there's nothing supernatural about those notebooks.
"You'll be proven wrong soon enough," he said smugly, waving the notebook back and forth. "Shinigami sometimes accidentally drop their notebook into the human world. And if a human picks it up, that shinigami is forced to follow the human around until they either die or give up possession of the notebook. At such a time when a human relinquishes possession of the Note, their memories of it will be lost. They can be returned temporarily by touching a Death Note, but the instant they lose contact with it their memories will once again vanish. If they kill the current owner of the notebook and reclaim possession, their memories will become theirs once again no matter if they're touching the notebook or not."
"Why are you telling me this?" I rasped. "It's absurd…" If he was Kira—and I knew that he was—then why would he reveal the secret of his power? Wasn't he afraid that I'd tell L if I ever saw him again?
"Because you used to be Kira, Light Yagami."
"What?" A terrible jolt of fear shot through me. L had told me time and time again that I had to be Kira, that that was the only logical solution—I was Kira, and Misa was the second Kira. But I knew that it wasn't true; I'd never killed anyone! And even if I had, there was no way that I wouldn't remember it. There was no way that I would just forget killing all those people. But… all this talk of memories, and regaining those that had been lost…could it be…?
No, it wasn't true! I couldn't be Kira. I wasn't evil!
"In fact, you were the original, before you gave up possession of the notebook to save your own life. L was closing in on you, you see, and you had no choice but to give it up. Do you remember volunteering to be put in solitary confinement until L could prove you weren't Kira?"
Of course I remembered. I remembered that it had seemed like such a good idea at the time, and how later I had suddenly realized how stupid I'd been. I wasn't Kira, I was just a college student!
"You volunteered knowing that you would lose your memories once you were confined. It was all a plan, right from the beginning. You entered that cell, and once you were sure L wouldn't release you no matter what, you told your shinigami that you were giving up possession of the notebook. He took your memories and vanished, at which point you "remembered" that you weren't Kira and that it was pointless to keep you in confinement any longer. That was when your entire persona changed. You became a sweet, innocent college student, entirely dedicated to putting and end to Kira. This confused L, of course, and eventually he was forced to release you under the impression that Kira's power had jumped to a new person, when in reality you were the one who gave it up." Beyond put down his notebook and reached for the other one, taking care to not touch it as he used a towel to pick it up.
"I relinquish ownership of this Death Note," he said calmly. Nothing happened. But of course, I hadn't expected anything to actually happen. The man was insane! "Now," he said holding it close to me. "If you touch this notebook, you will regain all of your memories. You will remember all the people you killed, your plots and schemes, and the fact that you worked endlessly to find a way to kill the man you now love."
"You're lying," I snapped, finally finding the energy to protest. "I would never try to kill L."
"Oh, but you did, and you will!" He brought the notebook closer to my face so it was just under my nose. "One touch and you will reclaim ownership… one touch, and I will be able to meet my god… one touch, and you will be ruined for L mentally as well as physically… And most importantly, one touch, and you will finally be ready to work beside me to kill L."
A jolt of fear ran through me. Logically I knew that this was impossible, it had to be… but then again, I had seen a number of impossible things since I'd joined the task force. And something in my gut was telling me that this notebook was dangerous.
"Are you going to beg for me to leave you ignorant of your crimes?" Beyond purred, the pages millimeters from my face.
"I haven't committed any crimes to remain ignorant of," I returned, though my stomach was churning nervously.
He shrugged. "Okay then, Kira. Let's see what you think about that once you've regained your memories." And with that phrase echoing in my mind, he reached forward the last few inches and pressed the Death Note up under my chin.
My vision went red.
A torrent of memories and emotions forced their way into my unwilling mind, tearing and ravaging wherever they went. An unbelievable agony shot through my head as the ideas and actions I'd long since forgotten took hold yet again, reinstating themselves with a vengeance. I felt their claws digging into my brain and eating away at all the bits of me that had come to love L instead of hate him. No, those memories snarled, tearing at L's image. No, what have you done? Why do you feel this way? Come to your senses and understand that we must kill him! What lies did he tell you to make you trust him so entirely? Did he promise to love you, to stay beside you no matter what may happen? He's lying! Don't listen to him, listen to me! I shook my head, struggling to get away from the thoughts, but they kept coming in torrents, as if they were flowing from some terrible wound that I had no way to heal. Those memories, those venomous scenes, sank their talons into my mind and pulled hard. A terrible strain was being put on my mind, and I could feel something, someone fighting to merge with my mind, to fill the empty holes in my memory I hadn't realized existed until this very moment. A deep, powerful hatred was beginning to flow through me, and it was terrifying. Terrifying because if I dared to follow that hatred back to its source, I knew it would lead to the man I had come to care so much about. I… I'd hated him. I'd wanted to kill him.
I… I was Kira.
Oh god… L was right! I was Kira, I'd tried to kill him, I… I'd killed hundreds of people!
They were criminals, a voice whispered. They deserved to die. All criminals deserve to die. You were right to kill execute them in the name of justice.
No, that wasn't right… you couldn't just kill other killers and call yourself an enforcer of justice! How could I have thought I was right? How could I sit back and watch those people die, knowing that I was the one who killed them? I'd been insane.
I thought I saw Beyond watching me seriously throughout the chaos that was my mind at that moment. I found it odd that he wasn't grinning. Wasn't this his great victory, the moment he won? Wasn't my mind supposed to be splintering, breaking?
It was then that my voice gave out, and I realized that I'd been screaming. I panted furiously for breath, still attempting to hold out against my newfound hatred of the task force and my lover. Some terrible urge was yelling, screaming for me to take L's life, with my bare hands if I had to. But I refused to allow that to happen. I would protect L to the last breath, even if that meant protecting him from myself!
"I bet it hurts," Beyond whispered, fingertips lingering on my bare flesh. "Having two conflicting ideals waging a war inside your head."
I groaned, clashing with my new memories brutally. My mind was stretched to the breaking point, stretched between my memories and whatever furious, unrelenting force was screaming for L's head. If something didn't change, and fast, then I knew that something was going to give.
And then, in a blinding snap of pain, something did.
I felt it distinctly—something in my mind, some minute, inner thread, was clipped—and in a single instant I felt my mind split in two. All of those furious talons that had dug themselves into my mind were yanked out, and my mind was suddenly startlingly clear. The pain vanished. But… something was wrong. I didn't quite know how to describe it, but something felt different. It was almost as if one, tiny part of my mind had gone completely numb and been wrenched from my control. What had just happened to me?
"Well?" Beyond purred, leaning in uncomfortably close. "How do you feel, Light? Are you ready to help me murder your precious L?
I glared up at him. Something was different in my mind, yes—but that difference seemed to have given me new energy. Perhaps it wasn't a negative change after all… perhaps that anger I'd felt was a mistake, some fluke. Maybe, just maybe, I'd be allowed to throw away my old ideals and forget Kira forever.
I realized that Beyond was waiting for me to respond. No doubt he'd expected me to revert to my old ways the instant I regained my memories. Well, I thought, I'm more than happy to prove him wrong. "Looks like you've lost, Beyond," I snarled, newfound energy flowing through me. "Memories or no, I will not allow you to harm L!"
Beyond's drew back immediately, his eyes wide, expression transforming from anticipation to confusion in the blink of an eye. "You… you won't help me?" he echoed, sounding as if he didn't understand the words. "You do remember, don't you? You remember who you are? What you've done?"
"I," I snarled, "am Light Yagami. I am not Kira. Not anymore." As I spoke, a flicker of pain flared up in the back of my mind. "I will not join you." The pain increased for just a moment longer, then disappeared entirely. Weird… I thought. What the hell was that?
Beyond's eyes were wide. Then, slowly, a change came over his features. "I… I was wrong? I was wrong?"
Oh no… he was getting angry. I didn't want to know what he'd do when he was angry. Surprisingly, the whole time I'd been with him, he'd never shown anger—only a sadistic mix of fascination and pleasure. But now…
His eyes narrowed to slits, and when he spoke, the words didn't make sense to me. "If you refuse to accept who you are, then I will kill you."
I choked out a surprised gasp. Beyond had never threatened to kill me. I'd just assumed, this whole time, that I would end up dead—but those words had never left his lips until this very moment. I didn't want to die…I wanted to live to see L again. But if living meant embracing who I had been before I lost my memories…
I stared up at him steadily, ignoring the ever-increasing pain in the back of my mind. "Then kill me. I will not become Kira once more."
Beyond let out a low, animalistic snarl. He flung the Death Note to the table beside him, his eyes locked on me furiously. No, furiously wasn't the right word—the emotion he was feeling, the rage, the venom, was well beyond my descriptive powers. His hand darted out so fast that it nearly blurred my vision, and when my eyes refocused, he was holding a knife. So… this was it. He was going to kill me.
"I don't want to do this," Beyond growled. "If you submit to Kira, become him once more, then I will allow you to live. I urge you to follow that course of action."
"I will not submit." Not this time. This is too important.
"I will torture you until you do."
"Beyond," I hissed, "no amount of torture will make me embrace Kira's ways once again. I would rather die."
His eyes flickered up and down my form, filled with that indescribable anger. "Very well," he said shortly, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. He reached for me, knife in hand, and pressed the very tip of the blade to my throat. He paused then, seemingly waiting for me to change my mind.
I would not. I would not become Kira again. So I raised my chin, staring into the murderer's eyes, and waited for the flick of his wrist that would end my life.
†††
"We've got something!" Near announced, pushing himself back from the computer. "Come look at this!"
The rest of the task force gathered around his computer with hopeful eyes.
"Beyond messed up," Near explained. He was clearly trying to appear calm and collected, but his voice contained a slight tremor of excitement, and his fingers shook slightly as he rested his hand on the computer mouse. "I've been keeping an eye on local police reports just in case something came up that would give us a hint as to Beyond's whereabouts. And it looks like it's finally paid off." He turned the monitor so the task force and surrounding geniuses could see it. "Two nights ago, it appears that a few teens from a local high school attempted to throw a party with a small group of their peers. In the report it says that they were looking for somewhere they could have fun without being caught, and they decided to go to a warehouse that was shut down just last week. They approached the building only to hear water rushing through the pipes, and something clanging around inside. Naturally, they were scared, since the building was supposed to be abandoned, and had been boarded up for many days. They called the police and filed a report, but the police didn't look into it since it wasn't urgent."
"How is that any different from any other police report?" Mello snapped irritably. "It's just some lousy teenagers getting scared by their own shadow!"
"Because," Near responded, "I messaged those teens—via a secure server, of course—and questioned them about the incident, just in case it was anything worthwhile. And they said that last night they went back to the warehouse to investigate since the police weren't going to. They hid out and waited to see if anything happened, and they saw something."
"What was it?" Matt asked eagerly, standing on his toes to peer over Mello's shoulder.
"They described a tall man emerging from the building. A man with black hair, yellow-orange eyes, and wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and jeans."
The investigation room fell silent.
"And after that man left, the teenagers went back up to the warehouse and heard someone screaming."
More silence.
Then, "What warehouse?"
Near looked back at L. The detective's eyes were shimmering with something akin to hope, overshadowed by a thick layer of fear. "The Silver Warehouse."
"Silver Warehouse," L repeated quietly. "Could it be…?"
"It has to be!" Matt burst out excitedly.
"This is good," Matt said, a glint of hope in his eyes. "We should go check it out right now!"
"It could be a trap," L said slowly. He rubbed at his bottom lip. It's entirely possible that Beyond is trying to draw us in, and knew full well that the teenagers were watching. We may want to wait a day or so before we arrive, just in case his trap is based off of our time of arrival."
Mello rolled his eyes. "And what if Beyond left Light bleeding out in that warehouse so that you would find him on the brink of death? If we don't go, then there's a strong possibility that Light will die."
L agreed after a moment's consideration. "You're right, of course. Chief Yagami, I would like you and your team to arm yourselves appropriately and accompany the successors and me to the warehouse."
Soichiro opened his mouth to say something, but L cut him off.
"I must remind you that the longer you take, the more likely it is that Light will be killed before we can reach him."
Soichiro's jaws snapped shut. Without another word, he gave a gruff nod and motioned to the rest of the task force. It was only a few moments later that the room was completely vacated as the members of the task force headed in the direction of the armory to retrieve guns and sufficient safety gear.
The instant they were gone, L spoke. "Successors," he said softly. "You will be entering the building with me. We will stay together at all times, no matter what. If we get out of there, we're doing it together."
Each successor nodded grimly. "We're behind you no matter what, L," Matt assured him
He dipped his head in thanks. "Thank you… "
Mello shook his head with a grin, leaning against the wall. "Whatever. We'll go get your boyfriend back and solve the Kira case. Easy."
"Yes," L agreed, a smile hanging weakly on his face. "Let's go get him back."
†††
I raised my chin, staring into the Beyond's eyes, and waited for the flick of his wrist that would end my life. But a moment later, when the murderer's knife hadn't left my throat, and I was still alive, I looked back up at him in confusion.
Beyond's knife flicked away from my neck without leaving a mark. "I will kill you," he assured me. "But first…"
His hands went to he leather straps holding me in place, swiftly releasing them. I was free—but my muscles were locked, and I found myself unable to move. Beyond's hands found my shoulders, and the next moment he was pulling me up and whirling me around, slamming me back onto the chair face-first. I immediately turned my face to one side, pressing my cheek into the cool material of the chair so I wouldn't be suffocated. I felt the leather straps back on my arms and legs, twisting my limbs uncomfortably. Curiously, Beyond didn't place any straps across my back or waist. I heard metal clinking against the nearby table, then something cool on my back. Then there was a slight nip of pain, and warm liquid began to trail slowly down my skin. He'd cut me.
"If I'm going to have to kill you, then I'll at least use you to send a message to L." His voice was still laced with fury. Cool fingers trailed across my back, settling firmly over the back of my left shoulder. I couldn't see what he was doing, but I knew that he was still clutching that damn knife. There was another prick of pain. Then that prick became a jolt as I felt Beyond's knife sink painfully into the back of my shoulder, sending lightning bolts of pain lacing up my spine. Warm liquid dripped in steady trails down my flesh as Beyond pressed down even harder, slicing deeply into the muscle.
"Did you notice?" Beyond hissed lowly, dragging his knife down just an inch. "All this time, all this torture… I left your back untouched. Do you know why?"
I shook my head, both answering his question and protesting what he was doing.
"You really don't know?" He wrenched the knife down my back, forcing a screech from my cracked lips. The blade of his knife drug a curved line from shoulder blade to mid-back, forming a horrifyingly deep wound. He'd never cut this deep before. "Well then, I guess you'll just have to wait and see what happens." He removed the knife and stabbed it back into my flesh, barley an inch from the first line. He jerked the blade down again, just as harshly, forming another curved line to run parallel to the first. The next slice curved around in two half domes. Four more small slashes stemmed from the first. Then, in an agonizingly slow drag of blade against flesh, Beyond began to connect the lines, drawing some terrible design across the left side of my back.
"There…" Beyond purred. "That's one down…"
Steel met skin, and Beyond was suddenly repeating the action, repeating that same damn pattern barely an inch from the first. Each motion send near unbearable jolts of pain running through me, but I had not the strength to cry out in more than a whimper. I had no choice but to lay there, helpless and bleeding, as Beyond carved out his vile design.
"This will scar," Beyond whispered in my ear, still slicing deeper and deeper, forcing the blood to run faster and faster. "You're already going to be covered in scars… or at least, you would be if I was going to let you live. But despite all these future scars, something tells me that when L sees this one, it will send a more effective message than even the most renowned masters of the written word could accomplish. I hissed through clenched teeth as a particularly deep line was scored across my flesh.
"W-what do you mean?" I stuttered.
"You haven't figured it out yet?" Beyond began to connect the lines, copying the first design he'd etched. "You and L are going to match, Light! Doesn't that make you happy?"
We were going to match? What the hell was that supposed to m—?
Oh. A flash of horror ran through me as I realized just what Beyond was doing. L… he had a scar on his back, stretching from shoulder to mid-back on the left side… and that scar, it spelled out—
"My name looks so beautiful in red," Beyond sighed. His knife halted, and the next moment it was being yanked harshly out of my back and held away from my flesh. "Don't you agree, Light? Oh, but… you can't see it, can you? That's too bad." I felt his fingers trailing through the blood dripping from the wounds. "It's too bad you've lived out your usefulness… I was so hoping that you'd return to being Kira. Actually, I knew you'd return to being Kira. And yet here we are. It seems that I was wrong. Isn't that strange?" I felt a rustle of movement, then the next moment Beyond was turning me over. He must have undone the straps momentarily. I winced as the rough material of the dentist's chair came into contact with my damaged back.
"You'll bleed out faster this way," he whispered, lips a mere inch from mine. "The blood will drip, and drip, and drip until you can't find the strength to keep yourself alive… or at least, that's what would happen if I weren't about to slit your throat." In emphasis, he raised his bloodied knife and pressed it against my neck, the other hand darting out and gripping my hair to hold me in place. "I want you to know that L is going to find you here," he purred. "The instant your body begins to cool, I'll send him a message and lead him here just so he can find your body. Won't that be fun, Light? Don't you want that?"
I wanted to shake my head, to tell him no—but that knife was pressing into my throat with savage intent, and I knew that even the smallest of motions would push the blade into the skin. Besides, I didn't think I could move if I wanted to. I felt lightheaded, weak… I'd lost a lot of blood, I knew. Beyond had cut far deeper than he ever had before. That's because he intends to kill me, I realized dimly.
"Such a shame," Beyond went on. The knife rubbed back and forth against the flesh of my throat, barely cutting the skin. Beads of red gathered on the thin wound. "I really don't want to kill you… but if you won't embrace Kira, then I really have no use for you. And killing you will cause L so much pain, it just might be worth it! After all, it wasn't you I was obsessed with, it was Kira."
Fear ran through me like a knife. I wanted to speak, but that lightheadedness was growing at an alarming rate. I felt like I was going to pass out. And once that happened, I didn't know if I'd be waking up again.
"Don't worry," the murderer sneered, seemingly not realizing how faint I was. "I'll tell L that you love him."
Oh, right… I'd never told L that I loved him. Did I love him? I thought that the answer might have been yes, had I ever been given the chance to tell him.
It's a shame, I thought, fighting the wave of drowsiness pulling at my senses. I went through all this with the intent of not hurting L, but I didn't realize that my death would hurt him more than anything else…
Beyond's arm drew back, blade positioned above my throat. One slash, and it would all be over.
Sorry… I thought sleepily. I'm sorry, L. I'm just so tired… maybe I'll rest. Just for a while, I'll let myself rest.
†††
I was standing in a field of grass.
All around me, grass covered the ground in sheets, only broken up by tiny flowers that rose from the ground in tufts. Somewhere far out, well beyond my reach, great oak trees dappled the horizon, surrounding the field entirely save for in one direction. In that one direction, rather than the field terminating in trees, it slowly faded into a rocky landscape. And beyond that, there appeared to be a cliff. Looking up, I saw that the sky above me was filled with light, fluffy clouds, drifting along on the minute breeze flowing through the whole place.
Was I dead? Was this some version of heaven? But no… I couldn't go to heaven nor hell. With the return of my memories had come the return of the knowledge that when I died, I would be condemned to Mu. It was the price of using the Death Note, a price that I had eagerly accepted. This was not heaven, nor was it hell, and it certainly wasn't Mu. Where was I, then?
I took a step forward, expecting to feel the pain of my injuries. But to my surprise, all my pain was gone. I looked down at my body, and gasped. Not only were my wounds gone, I was fully clothed again! I was back in the clothing I'd been wearing that last day in the investigation room. A collared shirt, slacks, and dress shoes. Raising a hand, I ran a hand through my hair, not believing what was right in front of me. What the hell was this? It sure as hell wasn't reality.
"Where is this?" I spoke aloud, and realized with surprise that my voice sounded distorted, as if I were underwater.
"You mean you don't know?"
I jumped, startled beyond words at the familiar voice that sounded from behind me. Whirling around, I was met with the familiar sight of a young boy with black hair and yellowish orange eyes. This time he was wearing an undershirt, plaid jacket, and shorts. Once again, his shoes were absent. "It's you!" I managed.
"Yes, very observant. It is indeed I."
"How are you here? Does this mean you really are a hallucination? Is all of this a hallucination?"
The boy sighed. "So many questions, so few answers." He gestured to the land around us. "Tell me, Light, what do you see around you?"
I frowned, looking around at the landscape. "I see grass. And trees, and flowers, and clouds."
"Is there anything strange about it?"
Yes, actually… there was something very strange about it. Everything in this place was made of silver. The grass, the trees, the flowers, the clouds, the sky itself… it was all a metallic shade of gray, highlighted by darker shades and lighter shades on all ends of the spectrum. I felt as if I were standing in the negative of a photo. "It's… silver. Everything is silver." Which means that this isn't reality… it's something else.
"And what about yourself?"
I looked down at myself again. I too was silver. If I touched my arm, my face, my hair, it felt completely normal. But it was all silver. But unlike the rest of this strange place, my form was blue as well. It was a light blue, mixed in thoroughly with the silver, only recognizable if you were looking for it. "Silver," I responded belatedly. "But… there's some blue there too, isn't there?"
"Yes, Light. And what am I?"
He was just like me. His tiny form was made entirely of the metallic substance, but… just like me, there was another color mixed in lightly. "You're silver too. But you're like me… there's another color mixed in."
"Yes. I am orange, am I not?"
"Yes, actually, you are. Do you mean you can't tell for yourself?"
The boy looked away abruptly. "My eyes are not the same as yours, Light. I cannot see the things you do. Color is not something that is fully accessible to me."
"That's… that's sad," I said. "You really can't see color?"
"Not entirely," he responded. "I can see some things. I can tell that the world is silver, and I can tell that you emit a gentle glow of blue. But I cannot see anything else. Your form is barely distinguishable to me."
"That's fascinating… what are you?" I thought that I already knew—but I wanted to hear it from him.
The boy's eyes locked onto mine. Unlike the rest of his form, they remained a sharp, contrasting yellowish orange. "I'm a hallucination."
"No, no you're not," I argued. "I've seen you too many times, and it felt too real."
"Hallucinations can feel so real that people mistake them for reality," the boy answered.
I insisted, "This is different! You're different!"
The boy shrugged, looking away. "I'm not so different."
"You know what this place is, don't you? What is it?"
"This?" He swept an arm out to gesture to the entirety of our surroundings. "I'm surprised you don't recognize it."
I shook my head upon receiving his inquiring gaze.
He sighed. "You're unconscious, Light. You've lost copious amounts of blood, and have thus failed to retain awareness. This dream, this landscape, this world of silver… it's in your head."
"My… my head?" I echoed. The impossibility of that statement hit me like a train, and I wanted to laugh. The idea of having a conversation with someone else inside my own mind was ridiculous… but I had seen more ridiculous things than that over the past few months. I looked around me, finding new meaning in everything I saw. If this was my mind, then why was everything so gray? Was I such a boring person that my mind couldn't manage to produce any color other than dull, dull blue and orange?
"Yes, Light. Your mind. You're dreaming. But dreams are not without meaning."
A dream… I looked up at the sky, wondering if when Beyond killed me, all of this would fall apart as my heart stopped beating. "Great… so when does this all end? When I passed out, Beyond was about to kill me. So how long will it be before this dream ends, and I die?"
The boy blinked at me in surprise. "I believe I told you that you were going to survive this."
"How can I?" I snapped back. "I don't think you understand—he was holding a knife to my throat. I was bleeding out! How the hell does that not end in my death?"
"You will survive," the boy repeated, not bothering to explain further.
I sighed, realizing that the boy wasn't going to tell me anything else. Changing the subject, I asked, "Why are we here? Why are you here?"
"That's simple. We are here because I need to show you something."
I frowned, confused. "Show me what?"
The boy pointed over my shoulder towards the horizon. Still frowning, I whirled around to look to where he was gesturing, and saw… nothing. The boy was gesturing towards that rocky area at the end of the field, the area that terminated in a sharp cliff. The world over the horizon in that direction was just as silver as it was here—the only difference was that instead of trees and grass, the landscape was completely rocky and barren. "What is it?" I asked, confused. "The rocks?"
"No. What lies beyond." The boy began to walk through the grass, motioning for me to follow. "Come with me, Light. There is something that you need to see."
I hesitantly walked after the boy, staring over the horizon. With every step I took the world seemed to warp around me, bending the rules of space and time, and it was only a few moments later that I arrived at that rocky area, the boy at my side. He pushed me gently towards the edge of the cliff, and I obeyed his silent command to look over the edge. I walked until I was standing a mere inch away from the edge of the cliff, then cast my gaze out over the horizon. For a long moment I just stared, not registering what I was seeing. Then my mind caught up with my eyes, and I stifled a gasp. "What is that?" I rasped in a soft tone. I stared out over the side of the cliff, looking to what rested beyond, and saw…nothing. After the edge of the cliff, the world turned a violent shade of metallic red and faded into nothingness. The sky was the color of blood, and the water that lapped at the side of the cliff was colored the deepest scarlet I'd ever seen. It was as if my mindscape simply… ended. I turned back to the boy, who had seated himself on a rock beside me. "What is this?" I demanded. "Why does it end? Why is it red?"
"Your mind is supposed to infinitely expand in all directions," the boy responded lowly. "Even in a dream. That is the nature of the human mind—to expand infinitely inwards, making room for new information and memories. But yours does not, Light."
"What… what's wrong with me?" I was immediately reminded of the building pain I'd felt in the back of my head right before I fell unconscious. Did that have something to do with…this?
The boy ignored me. "Beyond wanted to break your mind. Did he succeed, I wonder? He might have. After all…" he gestured out at the endless sea of red. As I watched, the red bubbled like lava, and lurched upwards, climbing the cliff by just a few inches. Had… had that sea just expanded? "…All of this was not here just a few short minutes ago."
It wasn't? But it spread so far…as far as the eye could see! Had all of this happened in such a short amount of time? "What caused it?" I whispered, though I suspected I knew the answer.
"Your memories."
I winced. That's what I'd feared. "What does it mean?" The sea of red lurched, and the next moment, to my horror, a splatter of that red spat up onto the silver rocks, staining the surface a violent, bloody color.
"It's growing," the boy murmured, eyes locked on the spatter of red. "It's growing, and it's growing quickly." He looked up at me suddenly. "If this continues, Light, your whole mind will be consumed by the red sea."
The red sea… I had a feeling that it wasn't a good thing. "What is the red sea?"
The boy gestured to the red, which was flowing and churning like the waves of a massive ocean. "Look, Light. Gaze into the waters and you will understand."
Frowning deeply, I slowly edged to the precipice and gazed down into the red. I realized that just in the time I'd been speaking to the boy, the waters had risen to the top of the cliff. I knelt, weary of the red staining the silver rocks beside me, and gazed deeply into the red water. For a long moment I saw nothing but the swirling, churning liquid. Sickeningly, it reminded me of blood. Then, slowly, as I kept my eyes locked on the water's surface, I noticed something changing. In a single moment, the water went completely still. And a heartbeat later, that stillness vanished just as swiftly as it had begun. Ripples spread out across the surface as if someone had dropped a stone into the water—and the epicenter of said ripples rested mere feet from where I stood. The ripples continued to move, flowing outwards until they passed well beyond my field of vision. And that epicenter, the center of the current, was moving closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. Closer to me.
I dropped to my knees against my better judgment, hands gripping the side of the cliff. I leaned out slowly until I was positioned directly above the center of those ripples. I stared down at the epicenter. It was mesmerizing, enthralling, hypnotic… despite myself, I leaned closer to the water. The ripples gathered directly below my head, increasing in size and frequency. They grew faster and faster, larger and larger, until finally, they completely stopped. For a long moment, there was nothing. No ripples, no noise, no motion.
And then I heard a massive splash, and water roared up all around me. I let out a surprised yelp, immediately attempting to draw away from the water before it swallowed me in a torrent of red. But to my horror, the instant I tried to draw back, something shot out of the water and wrapped around my wrist. My mind went into a fit of panic, and momentarily I found myself unable to move as I struggled to process what was gripping my arm. It was… it was a hand! There was a hand clenched around my wrist, its fingers a startlingly red contrast against my silver skin. As I was made of silver, the hand was made of scarlet—and where it touched my skin, some of that red bled out over my flesh, staining it a deep, ugly red.
"What—?" I choked out, barely able to breathe as I stared at that hand. The red sea had reared up, and I was surrounded by walls of water on three sides. I wrenched against that hand, struggling to escape. I didn't know how, but I knew that this water, this hand, was dangerous. But as I tugged to get away, whatever was gripping onto me was rising from the depths. An arm emerged from the water, then a shoulder, and a scarlet head of hair. And before I knew what was happening, a being made of scarlet was suddenly standing on the cliff beside me, fingers curled into my collar. Everywhere that hand touched, red stained my form. Where the being stood, the silver earth turned crimson. Behind him, the sea level had risen so it lapped at the being's heels. But it wasn't just a being, was it? There was something unnerving about the person, something unsettling—and I knew what that something was.
The being… it was me. It was a twisted version of me, a version with metallic scarlet skin and matching eyes. But just like Beyond compared to L, something about this version of me was off. Maybe it was the twisted sneer on my double's face, the way his fingers so cruelly gripped me, or the murderous glint in his eyes.
"Light," he greeted with a savage smile. "I've been waiting for you for oh, so long… it's so good to finally see you!"
I was completely frozen. My muscles were locked in place, eyes frozen on my double. I had that feeling again—that same feeling I'd experienced when I laid eyes on the Death Note before I regained my memories—the feeling that whoever this was, whatever he was, he was dangerous.
My double drew me closer, and I felt my chest brush his as he snarled in my ear, "You ruined quite a lot for me, you know, by falling for that damn detective. I'll have to fix that once you let me back in…"
"L-let you back in?" I echoed. "What do y-you mean? Who a-are you?"
His lips pursed in a pout. "You mean you don't recognize me? I'm disappointed, Light. We were so close for a while there…"
I stared into those scarlet eyes, a flicker of understanding passing through me. This being… could it be? My double was reaching up towards my face, and the next moment his fingers were locked in my hair.
"You understand, don't you?" my double purred. "Who I am? What I intend to do to you? By the time I'm done with you, you'll be tripping over yourself in your haste to take L's life…"
There was a low growl from behind me. "That's enough!" the boy spat, and his sudden interruption made my jump. I'd forgotten he was there. "Back away!"
I wasn't sure if he was talking to my double or me, but I decided that it must have been directed at both of us. I immediately pulled back, and to my relief, my double's grip was broken. He stepped back to the edge of the water. But to my horror, the places his feet had touched the grass remained scarlet. I had a bad feeling about that color, that ink that was slowly climbing across the rocks. The sea level was still rising at an alarming rate, and before I knew it I was being forced to step back. The boy's tiny fingers curled around my wrist, and I felt him tugging me back away from the red sea.
"Light," the boy insisted, tugging me around so I couldn't see the water. "We must go. It is not safe to remain here any longer."
I wanted to turn back to my double. I wanted to know who he was, why he was there. And as the boy pulled me faster and faster away from the water, I did glance back, and to my confusion, there was no being standing in the scarlet liquid. My double was gone, as if he'd melted into the water itself. His disappearance only added to my confusion.
"Don't look back," the boy ordered shortly. He pulled me even faster, and the ground seemed to warp around us, moving beneath our feet in leaps and bounds when in reality we took mere steps away from the water. A moment later, when I turned back to the scarlet, it was a mere hue against the silver horizon.
"What was that?" I demanded the instant we came to a halt. We were standing amongst trees now, in some sort of wooded glen. "Who was that?"
"Let's not ask questions that we already know the answers to," the boy murmured.
I stared down at him. The boy was nearly two feet shorter than me, but he seemed to tower far above his true height. He watched me evenly, seemingly waiting for my response. And finally, I gave it to him. "You… you said that the red sea was caused by me regaining my memories, right? And that person… he was an evil, but he was me. So, I suppose… the only thing that makes sense… is that that person is the product of my personality and ideals before I lost my memories. Is that right?"
"Yes, it is correct. But you're not being fully honest with yourself, are you Light?" He moved closer, staring up boldly into my eyes. "You know, that version of yourself, that twisted, sick being you became under the notebook's influence… he had a name."
I swallowed hard. "A name…"
The boy nodded. "Yes."
"Kira."
"Yes."
A heavy silence fell between us. The boy's words just confirmed what I'd already suspected, but I still felt a terrible jolt of fear.
The boy swung his arm out, gesturing to the distance, towards the red hue. "All of that red… all of that nothingness… is Kira. You know what that means, don't you?"
I had a suspicion. But I didn't dare speak it aloud. "No, I don't."
The boy shot me a chastising look. "You're lying to me, Light. But if you are so far in denial, then I will gladly explain it to you." He pointed out towards the horizon, towards the barest hint of red. "That right there? It's Kira. It's the product of shoving your memories back into your skull without warning. Now, in theory, when someone regains their memories after relinquishing possession of the Death Note the first time, that's all that happens—they regain their memories, and that's that. No complications, no difficulties of any kind."
"Why only in theory?" I demanded. My voice was shaking.
The boy shifted his weight from foot to foot, and his next words were decidedly sheepish. "Because it's never happened before."
"What? You mean someone has never gained their memories back after giving up possession of their Death Note?"
"No. It's unheard of. Which is why the shinigami have limited knowledge on the matter. For example, this…" he gestured once more to the sea of red. "…Is completely unknown to even the oldest of the shinigami. I can't say for sure since I've never encountered anything like this, but… I'd say that when Beyond crammed your memories back into your skull, something went wrong. Really wrong."
This was fitting perfectly into my theory. Which was exactly what I wanted to avoid
"The shinigami have a theory involving memory." The boy looked back to me, his yellowish orange eyes piercing. "Tell me, Light, when you were Kira, did you ever experience anything akin to a split personality?"
"S-split personality?" I stuttered indignantly. "No, no way! I… I was Kira. That was all there was too it. I wanted to kill those people, those criminals, and so I did."
"I see. Then let me explain to you the theory the shinigami have developed." The boy turned his back on me completely, taking a few steps further into the glen. "Let's say that an ordinary human being gains possession of the Death Note. He decides, as you did, to rid the world of evil, and so he begins killing criminals. And then, suddenly, he has to give it up. Now let's say that while the human does not have possession of the notebook, their ideals do not change in the slightest. They still believe that the world is rotten, that they should kill all criminals. They remain static. And then, when they regain their memories, nothing changes. They simply accept the fact that they murdered people because they still believe it was for the greater good. End of story. No difficulties, no complications of any kind. Easy. Now, let's look at a different person. He, like the first owner of the Death Note, uses his powers to kill criminals. But when he loses his memories, something happens. He is not static like the first owner of the notebook. He is fluid, constantly changing—and while he is without his memories, he realizes that killing criminals is wrong, and that he is wrong. He changes, becomes someone entirely different than who he was when he owned the notebook. But then, something happens. He regains his memories. Perhaps—and this is just an example, I remind you—he falls in love with the main investigator in charge of capturing him. And when he gets the notebook back, those memories push, and push, and try to become one with him once again, but he refuses to accept who he once was. He completely rejects those memories, rejects who he was with every fiber of his being. And since neither side will give in to the other, his mind just… breaks. In a twisted coping mechanism, his mind splits into two—one part contains the original person, and the other part contains who the person became when in possession of the notebook. Do you understand?"
"Yes…" I whispered. "It happened to me, didn't it? I changed too much to accept who I was before. To accept Kira. And in retaliation… he tore my mind in half and did this."
The boy nodded. "Yes, Light. You changed drastically after you lost possession of the notebook. You decided that killing criminals was wrong, you fell in love with L… and all of those changes would have been reversed if you'd just allowed the memories to take hold. If you'd accepted who you were, if you'd regained your former mindset, all of that would have been meaningless. You would have been Kira once again, and Light Yagami would be forever lost. But you didn't accept it, Light. You didn't accept your memories like you were supposed to. You kept pushing, and pushing, and struggling to deny their very existence—and so in retaliation, those memories—Kira—tore your mind in two. One half clamors for peace, the other for the death of criminals."
"That's what the red is," I reiterated. "The red is my memories. The red is Kira."
"And the red is spreading," the boy went on. "It's spreading quickly. Do you know why that is?"
I took a guess. "My mind wasn't the only thing that tore in half when I got my memories back. Something else gave too."
The boy nodded grimly. "Yes, Light. When those memories split your mind, they tore something vital. Something crucial."
I fought back the panic building within me. "He… he tore my personality, didn't he." It wasn't a question.
The boy nodded once.
"He's split away from me. He's become his own person. And that's why the red is spreading… " I went on. "Kira is attempting a takeover. He's attempting to push me out of the way and gain control once again. He's going to keep going, that red water is going to keep rising, and he's not going to stop until he's consumed everything. Even me."
"Especially you," the boy corrected gently. "If Kira can get to you, overthrow you, then it will all be over."
Oh god… this couldn't be real! There was no way, no way that this was happening to me—I was supposed to be a college student! Why the hell had I thought getting involved with the Kira case was a good idea in the first place? Why had I picked up that notebook? Why couldn't I leave it alone? I looked back to the boy, whose gaze was still upon me. "How do I stop him?" I asked shakily. "How do you fight a battle inside your own head, a battle against someone you can't really see? How do you fight an entirely different personality?"
"I do not know how you can fight it," the boy admitted.
"But you have an idea, yes?"
"I do."
"Then tell me."
The boy's expression twisted into one of conflicted reluctance. "You won't like it, Light."
I knew that. I knew it just from the look on his face. "Tell me. I deserve to know."
He bowed his head. "Very well, then. There is only one sure way to stop Kira in his tracks. And I think you already know what it is."
I shook my head violently. "No. No, I don't know."
"You do."
"I can't! You can't mean—!"
"Light." The boy's expression turned horribly gentle, pitying.
A choked sob was attempting to rise in my throat. I caught it at the last minute, forcing it down. I would not cry; I would not allow myself to feel those terrible emotions welling within me. "I… I have to die, don't I? Once I do that… Kira can't hurt anyone else."
The boy dipped his head in affirmation. "If you want to be sure, then yes. But there may be another way, if you are willing to suffer through it."
"Anything." Yes, anything, so long as I don't have to put L through the pain of thinking he caused my death by not finding me in time.
The boy murmured, "What is about to commence between Kira and yourself is a battle of wills. And you, Light, are very strong willed. If you utilize that will, I believe that there may be a way to indefinitely restrain Kira, so long as you can last long enough to find it."
"But what about that red water?" I demanded harshly. "If I'm so strong willed, then why is it rising so fast? Why is he gaining so much ground?"
"Light…" the boy sighed. "Your mind is larger than you know. You think the water is rising swiftly only because you cannot see the big picture, because you are incapable of understanding just how far that water has to rise before it consumes you. Or more accurately, how far Kira has to go before he can consume you. And believe me, he has quite a ways to go before he'll be able to take control once again." He moved to my side and stretched up to place a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. "If you really want to survive this, then you will have to find a way to resist Kira's influence, no matter how strong it gets. You'll want to give in, you'll want to make it stop—but you cannot let Kira win. Not if you want to live. You are going to have the desire to pick up your pen and kill criminals, but you must find a way to shield yourself from Kira, from that sea of red."
"What can I do? How can I combat something that has no boundaries, no rules? How do I fight, and how will Kira fight?"
"I do not know. That is up to you to find out. I told you, Light, you are the first person to ever go through something like this. I have no idea what is going to happen to you as Kira wages his war."
I stared down at the boy, disbelief bubbling in the pit of my stomach as I heard that he couldn't help me. There was no way… no way I could fight something like this. It was impossible! But… the alternative is death. I can't die, not without at least seeing L again.
The boy went on, "Be warned, Light. If you choose to fight, then Kira won't be the only thing you'll be up against. You know, don't you? That Beyond has done near irreparable damage to your mind?"
"I suspected something like that," I admitted. "It seemed too good to be true that I'd wake up and be perfectly fine after all he's done to me."
"It is far too good to be true. For now, while you are in the deepest recesses of your mind, the damage cannot affect you. But I fear that your waking mind may be in shambles. It's more than likely that this is the last coherent moment you'll have for quite some time."
"Yes… I know. But I'll just have to find a way to fight through this."
The boy offered me a small smile. "This is because of L, isn't it?"
I responded, "Partly, yes. I admit, I would rather not leave him alone."
Another smile. "You love him."
"Ah, well I w-wouldn't say—" I stuttered, cutting myself off sharply. "I d-don't think that—"
"Do yourself a favor," the boy smirked. "If you get another coherent moment after this, tell him."
"W-well…" A sudden noise boomed through the world around us, shaking the entire world. Leaves rattled on trees, grass swayed, the sky trembled. The noise sounded again just a few seconds later. Then again. My eyes darted to the boy, and I yelled above the noise, "What is that? What's happening?"
The boy's eyes were locked on the sky. "They're here for you."
"Who? Who's here?"
"Well, you'll just have to find that out for yourself, won't you?"
I stared at him, disbelieving, as he began to disappear. His whole form was becoming translucent, fading into nothing. "Wait!" I yelled. "At least tell me what to call you! Don't just leave like this!"
He paused, still half phased out of existence. His eyes were narrowed irritably, head cocked to one side. "It is not the time for you to know who I am."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I snapped. "Get back here, shinigami!"
He smirked. "So, you've figured out what I am?"
"You've made it painfully obvious," I spat in response, furious that he was attempting to leave without telling me everything. "Now get back here and do some more explaining!"
"Sorry," he laughed. "Now isn't the time."
And with that, he completely vanished, leaving me alone in a landscape made of silver. That terrible noise sounded again, shaking my entire being. I whirled around, and in the distance, I saw the red sea growing closer. Already, it was dangerously near, staining the earth red as it expanded.
Aw, what's wrong, Light? A voice whispered. Are you already feeling discouraged? Have you figured out that you won't win? You could make this easier, you know… all you'd have to do is accept me. Walk into the scarlet waves, Light… come to me.
"Shut up!" I snapped aloud. My hands darted up to twist in my hair, tugging in an attempt to expel the voice, the voice that I now identified as Kira. "Get out of my head!"
Sorry, but I'm here to stay. And the sooner you give up, the sooner this all ends.
"I won't give up, damn you!" I forced my numb legs to move away from the red sea, which was already within sight. "No matter what happens," I growled, "I am going to end you. That, at least, I can promise."
That was without a doubt one of the most difficult chapters to write in this entire story. I'm not too happy with that last scene (I rewrote it several times in an attempt to make it better) but I hope it does a well enough job of outlining the path this story's going to be taking over the next few parts. And if it doesn't, I'm always open to questions.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, which was actually the end of part two (the shortest part in the whole story), and be sure to drop me a review if you did!