"It's your move, Light."
"Hm? Oh, right." Light slid a bishop across the board and tapped the top of the clock. "I wasn't paying attention."
"You still aren't." Gleeful, Julia took his newly unprotected queen. "You left your most powerful piece wide open. What sort of strategy is that?"
"A bad one, clearly. I wasn't thinking."
"The famous Kira, letting his guard down? So you are human."
"I haven't denied that in years. Are you going to keep rubbing it in, or are you going to play chess?"
"I did. It's your move again, Light."
So it is. Feigning calm, he looked over the board, trying to find some way to fix his mistake. Seeing none, he tipped over his king. "I resign."
"Already? You haven't even tried—"
"I see where it's headed. There's no point."
For a moment, Julia stared at him. Then she grimaced and reached out to stop the clock.
"What are you doing?" Light asked.
"Are you going to talk about it?"
"Talk about what?"
"Why you're really here."
"Here in Near's headquarters, or—"
"You haven't spent all afternoon with me because you enjoy having your butt kicked. You're hiding from them, aren't you?"
"I'm not hiding," Light lied, moving his chess pieces back to their starting positions. "You're stuck in here until they leave, and everyone else is busy with the case. It's only fair that I make it up to you somehow."
Julia pushed her glasses up her nose, looking gratified despite her skepticism. "That's all?"
No. "Yes."
"You don't have to do that."
"I know."
"No, what I meant is that you shouldn't. You see me every day; you haven't seen them in years. The last thing I want to do is keep you away from your family."
"You're not. I'm here by choice, not because I feel obligated." Light set his king upright again. "Near knew my feelings before he invited them, and he hid it from me for days. As far as I'm concerned, they're his guests, not mine."
"Has it occurred to you that you're being a colossal butthead right now?"
Light's lips twitched in amusement. "Butthead?"
"Shut up. I'm being serious. Your family traveled around the world to come see you, not Near. And what are you doing? Hiding in my room and complaining about it!" She jabbed an accusatory finger at him, a pawn still clutched in her hand. "Do you have any idea what I'd give to be in your place right now? To be able to see my dad again? Near doesn't do favors for me, Light. Not like he does for you. He's been fair to me, don't get me wrong, especially considering—well, everything. But I'm always just a prisoner to him. Nothing more than that."
She has a point. Light plucked at the sleeve of his scrubs, suddenly uneasy. "He hasn't exactly treated me with kid gloves, Julia. The last time he dumped surprise visitors on me—"
"I found you downstairs. I know. But he cares about you, all the same. He cares a lot. The last time he bothered to talk to me, it was just to get advice on how to talk to you."
"How to talk to me about what?" Don't fucking tell me... "My family?"
Julia's face reddened. "I—that's not the point."
"That's not a no. He told you they were coming before they got here, didn't he?"
"Well, yes," she admitted reluctantly. "Not very long before, but—he was afraid to break the news to you. He told me he'd asked his team already, but since I know you so well, he wanted to know if I had any advice."
Since I know you so well. Against Light's will, the word "breeding" popped into his mind, and he fought off the urge to cringe. Julia fell silent, staring at him again, and Light hurried to compose his face. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Is there anyone Near didn't tell before he told me? "Did you?"
"I told him you were going to be pissed, but putting it off would only make you angrier—and that the sooner he came clean, the sooner you were going to forgive him. I'm not great at reading his mood, but from what it looked like, he seemed really worried about that."
"About coming clean? Yeah, I noticed."
"No. Well, that too. I think he was more afraid that you wouldn't forgive him."
Light laughed, caught off guard by the absurdity. "I don't have much of a choice there, do I? I can't tell him to piss off forever. Not unless I want a one-way ticket back downstairs for violating the conditions of my sentence."
"Do you really believe he would do that?"
I don't know. Something within Light wanted to reject the idea, but another voice—a younger voice, pained and terrified—believed it all too well. "He's done it before."
"Light—"
"If he decides something is in my best interest, he'll do it whether I agree with him or not. He always has. He gives me some leeway you don't get for working on his team. I admit that, and I'm sorry. But he and I aren't friends, not really. He's never once forgotten he's my warden, and neither have I."
"I don't know of many wardens who would build their prisoners a garden on the roof."
"He built that for both of us."
"He built it for you, and you know it. I don't know everything that happened between you before I got the notebook, but I know what I've seen since. If you're going to sit there and tell me you and Near aren't close, I'm going to call you a bald-faced liar. Because you are."
Maybe so. Ill at ease, Light said nothing. Julia drummed her fingertips on the table, watching him with a soft, sympathetic look.
"You know, back when you first started visiting me, I wasn't sure what it was you wanted. I was grateful, truly I was, but you made me nervous, too. You were Kira, after all, and I'd tried to kill you. I didn't know how much of you I could believe." She paused as if waiting for him to protest, but Light said nothing. Wetting her lip, she continued on. "I kept telling myself that you had to want something from me. I couldn't see any other reason for you to set foot in that room again. But the only hint you ever gave me was that one day, after I teased you, you called me Sayu. I thought she might be one of your old girlfriends, but when I asked Rester, he told me who she was. And that's when I understood: what you wanted wasn't about me at all. You wanted to have a little sister again. You missed her."
I don't remember doing that. Guiltily, Light's mind flitted to Roger, to his old warden's tendency to slip up and call him "Matt." Light had rolled his eyes at every slip-up until he learned what it had meant—and after that, he'd had no chance to bring it up. Roger would have given Near hell for not warning me, but he'd have pushed me to talk to Mom the first time Near offered. He knew there might not be another chance.
Light knew it, too.
"I don't know what to tell them," he confessed.
"Just tell them the truth. You made mistakes, but you still love them. That's what matters, isn't it?"
"I hope so."
Smiling, Julia reached out for his hand. "Hey. You've got this, all right? You'll be fine."
"I know. Worst come to worst, I'm awfully hard to kill."
"That's the spirit."
He exhaled slowly. "You're not a replacement."
"I know I'm not. That's why you should talk to—"
"You never were. You were stuck in the same hellhole I had been, and it was partially my doing. I didn't want anything from you. I was trying to do the right thing."
She squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Light."
"Thank you. I don't enjoy having my ass kicked, but once in a while, I need it."
"Well, you know where to find me. I'll kick your ass anytime." Julia released him and gestured at the door. "Good luck."
"What do you want?"
Sayu peeked around her door with suspicion, her infant cradled in her arms. Steeling himself, Light offered up a nervous smile. "I was hoping we might have a chance to talk."
She glanced past him at Lidner. "Is she coming in with you?"
"Not unless you want me to," Lidner said. "I can wait out here until he's finished."
"Good. Here." Sayu held out the baby. "Take Asa to my mother for now."
Lidner blinked. "You want me to—?"
"He's a baby, not a bomb. He won't explode. Though I did just finish feeding him, so—" Sayu draped a burp cloth over Lidner's shoulder and pressed the baby into her arms. "I'll keep an eye on Light."
"I don't mind him being here," said Light. "If you want to hold onto him—"
"I don't."
"All right. Halle, do you mind?"
"Not a bit. Just come back out here when you're done."
Sayu opened the door wider, and Light nodded politely before stepping through. Her layout was identical to his own, a modest but comfortable apartment with two bedrooms and a lightly furnished den. Light sat down on the couch, trying to look casual, hoping Sayu might sit next to him as she had when they were young. Instead, she took a chair along the far wall, staring him down like a detective with questions to ask.
"So you finally came out of the bathroom," she began.
Light chuckled nervously, sheepish. "I'm sorry about that. No one told me you were coming, and I just—"
"Panicked?"
"Something like that."
"I see. I'm sorry, too. When you did that…I don't know what came over me."
"It's fine. You've had a hell of a week, I know—and a hell of a long flight here, too. How old is Asa?"
"Six months."
"And your older one. He's…?"
"Hideki. He's four."
"Right, of course." Time flies. "Named after Ryuga, I'm guessing?"
Sayu's face turns pink. "That's not the reason I gave my husband, but—"
Well, that's ironic. "It's all right. Your secret's safe with me." Light smiled. "Where is your husband, by the way?"
"In Tokyo with Hideki. L booked a hotel penthouse for them, and some of Dad's old task force are keeping an eye on things, in case anybody leaks the news while we're gone."
Her voice dripped with reproach, and Light lowered his eyes. "You must miss them."
"I do."
"It must be exciting for him, though. Hideki, I mean. Missing school, exploring new—"
"Don't talk about my son."
"Of course. I'm sorry." This isn't going well. Chagrined, he cast around for a safer topic. "You look good."
"Thank you. You look…" She trailed off, looking him over. "Alive."
"Surprising, I know."
"What happened to your face?"
"I helped L investigate a serial murder case, and the killer abducted us both. Things got a bit unpleasant from there." Self-conscious, he prods the scar beneath his eye. "Not my best police work, I guess."
"You're telling me a serial killer broke into this building?"
Yes, but that one was a different case. "We were in London, actually."
"L took you to London?"
"Only the once. I've been locked in this building ever since."
"You don't seem very locked in to me."
"Less now than I used to be. Does that bother you?"
"I don't know." Sayu looked down at her hands, running a thumb over the back of her knuckles. "I came here prepared to see you in a cage, and instead, you're just…here. Wandering around like you own the place. And all this time, you never sent us so much as a word."
"I couldn't. I'm not wandering. I can't leave my room without supervision, and I'm not allowed to—"
"Did you ever ask L to? Or are you not allowed to talk to him, either?"
Chagrined, Light wet his lip, picking guiltily at his damaged hand. "I didn't think you'd want to hear from me."
"Because you're a murderer?"
"Because I'm Kira."
His confession hung in the air like dust, thick and smothering. Sayu stared at him in horror, her eyes twin pools of black ice. "I knew L wasn't lying about that. I didn't want to believe it, but I did. But even so, hearing you say it…you were laughing at us for years, weren't you?"
"No, of course not. I never laughed at you."
"At Dad, then. He agonized over that case. Every time he came home, I could see it. And you were just sitting there next to him the whole time, letting him suffer. For years, he barely even saw us, and then one day, he was gone. Because he couldn't give up hunting Kira. Hunting you. Did he even die the way you told us, or was that another lie?"
The implication spilled over Light like icewater, and his hands clenched in his lap. "I didn't lie."
"Was it Mello, like you said? Or was it you?"
"He was shot by one of Mello's henchmen during a raid. I would never have hurt him, Sayu. Whatever you think of me now, I swear—"
"But you did. You hurt all of us, Light. Why?" Her wounded voice rose in pitch. "Why did you do it?"
"I thought I was making things better."
"Well, you didn't."
"Do you think I don't know that? I've spent nine years regretting my failures, wishing I'd been the man Dad thought I was. I made mistake after mistake for years, and I'll be paying for it the rest of my life. I accept that—if anything, I deserve worse. I thought that if you and Mom didn't know the truth, it would be easier on you. I didn't want to cost you any more pain than I already had.."
Sayu dragged in a breath. "If you're fishing for me to say that I'm grateful you're alive—"
"You wanted an answer. I'm giving you one. I got a power I should never have had when I was too young to think about it clearly, and I was too convinced of my own damn genius to back down. I killed criminals in the same room I helped you with your homework, and I lied to Mom and Dad to protect myself. But there's not a day since I was arrested that I haven't missed you, Sayu. I know my word isn't worth much, but I've never lied about that."
"I want to believe you. I do. But…"
She trailed off, her hushed voice almost childlike. For a moment, Light saw her as she had been: young and chipper and carefree, wheedling him for help with homework or trying to pawn off her household chores. Now, she looked at him with sterner eyes, all her adoration replaced with distrust. She grew up, and I wasn't there to see it. And now we both know why. A yawning pit opened in his stomach, but he refused to let it show.
"But it's not enough," he said gently. "Is it?"
"No, Light. It's not."
"Then give me a chance to prove it. L offered me the choice to serve my sentence in Tokyo to be closer to you. I wouldn't have as much freedom, but I could still be his consultant. More importantly, I could spend more time with you."
"More time doing what?"
"Whatever you need me to."
"What is it you think we need? We've gotten by this long without your company, and there's not much else you can contribute from a cell. Are you going to cook for us? Watch my children while I run errands? Will you take Mom to the doctor's office? She's not getting any younger, you know. What exactly do you plan to do for her?"
"I'll talk to her and figure it out."
"That's not an answer, Light. If you come to Tokyo, she'll feel obligated to take care of you—visiting you, fussing over you, bringing you meals. She'd feel guilty if she didn't. When she's in her eighties and sobbing because she can't visit you without help, you won't be the one she cries to—or the one scrambling to transport her, either. Be realistic. If you're here, at least she won't feel hurt that she can't visit you every day. The only thing you would be in Tokyo is a burden."
She's right. Sayu's voice was sharper than he ever remembered it, a knife crueler than any Janus had used. Her words cut deep into Light's battered pride, and his confidence bled away into pools of dread. "What do you want me to do?"
"You can't do anything. Not for us. I came here because Mom wanted to and she needs the support. I didn't come here for you."
"Then why talk to me at all?"
"I wanted to see how you'd changed, I guess. You spent six years pretending nothing was different. I had to know if you were still him, underneath."
Don't say it. Please. "And?"
She swallowed. "Do you remember that horror movie you let me watch with you when we were kids? With the zombies?"
"How could I forget? Dad gave me hell for that."
"As he should have. I had nightmares about it for weeks. That I'd run up to Mom or Dad or you, but it wouldn't be you. Just a monster inside your corpse—some horrible, alien thing that looked like you. That's what this feels like. You look like Light, your voice is the same, but you're not him. Not really. As far as I'm concerned, my brother is still dead."
There it is.
Light's breath left him in a rush, but his expression never changed. Avoiding Sayu's eyes, he rose unsteadily to his feet.
"Then I'm sorry for your loss," he said hoarsely. "I won't bother you again."
His sister's face crumbled, but he didn't stay to watch her cry. He wandered from the room like a sleepwalker, his ribs caving in with every step.
I can't do this. I can't. I can't.
Lidner startled as he closed the door behind him, hastily tucking her phone away. "That was it? I was expecting you to stay longer."
So was I. An iron lump choked his throat, and his chest ached like an open wound. Lidner's eyes widened as she looked at him, understanding dawning in her face.
"Oh, Jesus. Light, are you—?"
"I'm fine. Just tired." The familiar lie rolled easily off his tongue, and he forced himself to smile. "I'd like to go back to my room."
Lidner opened her mouth as if to argue, but he walked past her without waiting. Clutching his shaking hands to his sides, Kira fled back toward the solitude of his cell.