July 22, 2004. Day fifty-two of confinement. It's been seven weeks since you turned yourself in. Almost two full months.
The lights turn on with a harsh buzz, and you wake with your head smushed into your thin pallet. Your feet are bare, your shoulders exposed to the constant underground chill. You're vaguely grateful, at least, that you remember where you are immediately; three or four weeks ago you'd still occasionally had moments between sleep and wakefulness when you expected to wake up in your bed at home, before you realized why you were in so much pain, why you couldn't move your arms, why your neck had a crick in it…
Supposedly, Kira still has not killed.
Maybe L's telling the truth about that.
Maybe.
You're sure you can outwait Kira, but with the burst of pain that accompanies wakefulness, you start to wonder if you really can. You refuse to consider it, though, so—
So you've stopped thinking about the case.
Yesterday, you were figuring out how long it would take an ounce of poison gas to fill your entire cell. A simple enough equation based on the volume of the room, except you have to take into account the corridor as well. To make it really challenging, you'd added on five other hypothetical cells of the same dimension, and you'd come to the conclusion that it's very possible no one would die.
Unfortunately, that means you have to come up with another thing to think about today.
You consider getting up for a moment, and then decide it's really not worth the effort. You screw your eyes tighter shut and turn your face closer to the mattress until you can almost imagine that you are nowhere, that you are only a bright spot within your own mind, something apart from the discomfort, from the rest of your body, from everything outside…
You drift.
Somewhere, very far away, a criminal suspect named Yagami Light is shivering in an underground cell. At some point, Yagami Light will probably get up and eat the food that's brought his way, and he will think of another experiment to fill the hours, which if the pattern holds will be another theoretical way the prisoner could die, but you don't worry about that.
You are not there.
You are somewhere else, in a soft cocoon, and there is nothing you need to do but rest.
December 27, 2003. This is the fourth death you've witnessed. The spectre of Kira which has so easily fallen over the world seems to have made such things ubiquitous; when you had seen the man mopping the floor of the store in Shinjuku station and watched him shudder to the ground, you had thought Kira and then it doesn't matter—it has nothing to do with me. You step onto the train, full of jostling people and noise, so many bodies pressed together. He was probably a rapist or something; Kira wouldn't kill innocents. It does not mean you support Kira, just to understand his modus operendi. Even here, you are nowhere safer. The train thunders through its underground loop while you lose track of time in the jostle of the crowd. Then a man, an ordinary commuter with a briefcase, just one of the innumerable mass, takes a step off the train and you see him falling before the doors close: Raye Penber? What kind of a coincidence is it to see him again, here, now when he is falling onto his side as though death found it that easy to pluck out his heart…
You ride the train for a long time after that, jittery under your skin and his face in your mind's eye: Kira. Kira found out about the FBI agents too. He knows everything L's planning.
December 28, 2003. You knew this family meeting must be about the FBI agents the moment your father called you all to the table in the kitchen with that heavy look in his eyes. This act of Kira's is different from what came before—it shows that he's willing to kill anyone who gets in his way. "There's no point in hiding it, as you'd find out eventually anyway," dad says, "so I'm telling you this now. I'm in charge of the special task force that's investigating the Kira case."
"Wow!" Sayu says. "I guess I kind of knew, but still… you're amazing, tōsan!"
"But that isn't what I wanted to tell you," Soichiro says. "Twelve FBI agents were sent here to Japan to find Kira. Yesterday, all twelve of them were found dead…"
"You mean they were killed by Kira?" you confirm, even as your mind it stuck on… twelve! —I thought there must have been at least fifty, to have already been following family members of the NPA personnel… but twelve?
"In other words, anyone who tries to apprehend Kira may be killed…" dad continues. "Morale is low," he confesses, "and who can blame them? They fear for their lives. I can't force them to stay on when we're dealing with such a cruel and heartless murderer."
« It was necessary. I had to scare L off before he zeroed in on me. But if there were only twelve agents— »
Just how targeted an investigation is L running…?
"Then you quit too, tōsan!" Sayu pleads. "What if he tries to kill you?"
"She's right," mom says. "Your life is more important than your career. All you have to do is resign."
"No," Soichiro says. "I'm seeing this case through to the end. I will not succumb to evil."
And what else could you have expected him to say? He would not be your father if he wouldn't throw his life away for his moral ideals.
Kira is exactly the kind of criminal your father would need to see caught and killed. Soichiro would not accept anything less.
You know this.
You've always known this.
« Kira isn't evil. This is what we're fighting for, tōsan. Can't you see that—? »
You push to your feet, giving him a bright smile. "I'm proud of you, tōsan. You're absolutely right." And without waiting for anyone, you're walking around the table, out of the room— "if anything happens to you, tōsan—I'll see that Kira gets the death penalty. I swear it." You slam the kitchen door behind you, climb heavily up the stairs to your room at the end of the hall, your hands clenched.
« "That was worth an Academy Award, Light," Ryuk says. "Gotta hand it to ya. You amazed me yesterday, too, the way you killed those FBI agents."
It was something you'd had to do. You'd been so sure about it, then. It's not possible that you could have made a mistake—dad doesn't understand, but if he knew everything, he'd— he'd— he'd finally— »
You step inside your room, and lock the door behind you.
April 7, 2004. Ibaraki hospital is clean, and white, and sterile. Watching your dad lying prone on the hospital bed with its cranked-up back, the pillow behind his head, an IV in his arm and a pallor in his stern face, you feel as though a foundation of the world has cracked and the ground shifted beneath you.
You're the one to bring up what everyone must be thinking: this heart attack… it's the same way that Kira kills. Is it really certain that this isn't an attempted murder by Kira?
"I don't think it was Kira… being under all this pressure," dad admits, "and the fear of being killed by Kira, I haven't had a good night's sleep in months. I was asking for it."
You don't need Kira to kill you if you're going to work yourself to an early grave…
"Having your own son under suspicion must be an emotional strain as well," Ryuga says casually, and you glance over at him in sudden terror.
"You told my father I'm under suspicion?"
« I had to expect this at some point… but still… »
"I've told your father everything," Ryuga says seriously. "Including the fact that I'm L." You glance back at your father, trying to gauge whether he, too, thinks Ryuga is—
"That's right," Soichiro says. "This is L. We've been calling him 'Ryuzaki' so nobody finds out, but… this is definitely L."
This… is really L… my father says so. So at the very least, he's the L that has been giving orders to the police thus far… « If I get rid of him and all the rest of the task force… no… it's not that simple. Well, no need to be hasty. If I take my time watching him… » Anyway, right now I'm Yagami Light, concerned about my father…
"So, Ryuzaki," your father asks more heartily, "has talking to my son cleared away your suspicions?"
No, it hasn't. That conversation—no, interrogation—in the coffee shop—you'd slipped up. You'd been too curious to discover if he was truly L—too interested in what he had to say—flattered, even—and you'd seen that you weren't convincing him of your innocence, but you hadn't been able to disengage. No, you hadn't wanted to… « if it wasn't for your father's unexpected collapse, what else would he have figured out…? »
"No," Ryuga says simply. "To be honest, all his comments about the Kira case were just too on-the-ball. It's made me suspect him even more."
"Hey," you interrupt. "Saying that to me is one thing, but don't say things in front of my dad that will upset his condition. Try to have a little consideration, Ryuga."
"It's all right, Light," dad says. "An ambiguous answer wouldn't make me feel any better. I much prefer hearing the truth. And even though you're under suspicion, I understand it's not quite enough to make you an actual suspect."
Really? you think. Is that what he's told you? The surveillance on my room—the FBI agents—Raye Penber following me when there were only twelve agents on the case? No, I am a suspect—L considers me one, at least—
"That's correct," Ryuga says. "You seem to misunderstand me a little, Yagami-kun. As I told you earlier, when I say 'suspicion,' I'm talking about a very slight possibility. Let me explain again. Kira murdered the twelve FBI agents who entered Japan. This is clear from the fact that all of them died of heart attacks on December 27, the very same day they received the file. It is also a fact that Kira had access to task force information. I don't know how," Ryuga claims, glancing over at you, "though it does seem the firewalls on the task force computers were not very secure… regardless, there's a very good possibility that Kira was able to access data from a task force member's computer." And he thinks I was capable of that, you think uneasily. If he ever found out that I'd had access to that information…
"However," Ryuga continues, "even though Kira murdered the FBI agents, he has not killed a single Japanese investigator. This also can lead us to infer that Kira is related to someone on the task force. Well, I suppose Kira might be capable of murdering a member of his own family…" Ryuga trails off meaningfully.
"…I see."
"Then there's one of the FBI agents, Raye Penber. Some of his actions were curious, and quite noteworthy."
…Raye Penber…
"And now even his fiancée, who was in Japan with him and a former FBI agent herself, has gone missing."
—missing! But you'd run into her outside the task force headquarters in early January. How soon after that did she disappear…?
December 31, 2003. You're in your room, chin in hand, and lost in thought. The Sapp-Akebono fight is playing on the TV: music, announcements, cheering, the roar of the crowd, a New Year's Eve extravagance that pulls together millions; but to you it's nothing but background noise. From the information you've gotten today from your dad's computer, you know that the playing field of this case has changed drastically, and as midnight approaches so does a sense of unease. Yet you force yourself to sit calmly at your desk, trying to think it all through logically… the task force has lost a lot of people… « I can't do anything that publicizes my access to secret information anymore… so far, I did that to put pressure on L, but now… » who'd have thought the FBI sent only twelve agents to Japan? Was I being shadowed so early on just because my father's in charge of the investigation? « If L was deliberately using so few agents because he assumed I'd kill them… you close your eyes, pained. You'd acted on the premise that there were more agents, more people being shadowed… everything you'd done was a useful decision if that had been the case; it would have kept you from being suspected further, but with only twelve agents, such a move instead works against you… Still, I'm pretty sure I didn't leave any evidence… pretty sure? Is that enough to stake your life on?! You lean your arms on the desk, wrap your hands around your elbows, nails digging into the fabric of your shirt. And anyway, even if he suspects me of being Kira, he can't arrest me unless he gets his hands on the Death Note… You clench your teeth, a cold sweat on your skin; horrified by the realization that you've somehow ended up in a situation where this could be a comfort to you… that's the way a hunted suspect feels… if it ever got to the place where the only thing separating you from arrest was L not having found the Death Note… no! I've got to stop thinking like that! I can't let myself be even remotely suspected of being Kira! …I moved around a lot in the past few days… think. Did I make any mistakes? And what is my next move…? You narrow your eyes, stare grimly ahead as though facing down L across the distance between you… The real battle starts now…
"Huh? It's over already?" Ryuk asks, from his seat in front of the TV—the match has ended two and a half minutes in with a knockout; Sapp wins. »
April 7, 2004. "So that's how you narrowed it down to the Kitamuras and us…" you say. Outside, dusk has fallen, and the glow of the hospital's interior is a finite thing, fragile and quiet.
"Yes," Ryuga agrees. He has kicked off his shoes and is crouched upon the uncomfortable folding chair like a frog resting on a lilypad, while the beep and blink of the machines cuts through the hush of the late hour.
"My view so far has been that since Kira was operating in the Kanto region, he must be Japanese," you say, "and that he couldn't bring himself to kill innocent Japanese for that reason. But if those FBI agents were shadowing NPA personnel and their families, you're right there's a good possibility Kira was among those they were probing." You bring your hand to your chin and continue thoughtfully, "and I happened to be among those they were probing, too. So I can't fault you for placing me under suspicion. In fact, you're absolutely right. There are no other likely suspects…"
"Your powers of deduction are outstanding, Yagami-kun," Ryuga says. His dry voice manages to make even this sound like anything but a complement. "You're always precise, and very fast."
"I'll help you with this investigation, Ryuga," you decide. "Because now my father has corroborated that you're who you said you were," you add, reminding him that you know better than to take his word on such a thing as believing he is L. Ryuga glances over at you without apology, and though his face is expressionless, you see the curiosity in his eyes.
You smile. "And I'll prove to you that I'm not Kira, because I'm going to catch Kira for you."
July 23, 2004. Day fifty-three of confinement.
The bulbs in the hallway turn on. A moment later, you can hear L's voice through the microphone. "Light-kun," it says impassionately.
You've been barely dragged from sleep, and you can't really bring yourself to care about the voice. But you answer anyway.
"Yes, Ryuzaki?"
Perhaps, if L is feeling particularly chatty today, you can get him to proclaim the facts of your "obvious guilt" again. He refuses to talk about anything else, on the grounds that it's taking attention away from the important matter of interrogation.
"You're right," he says.
"About?"
There's a slight smile in L's voice when he answers. "Everything, I'm sure you'd insist. But I mean, about the Kira case. There's no way we can move forward like this." For a moment, he falls silent, and you try to think through the slow drifting of the walls and your sudden shock. He… agrees with me? What does that mean—?
"Light-kun," L says again.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry."
The connection cuts out.
« November 28, 2003. All of a sudden, it's more than clear that the Death Note really works. You have the proof right in front of you; you have seen Shibuimaru Takuo's body through the glass of the convenience store window, and when you step outside, you are the only person still at the crime. The truck had kept driving. Probably afraid… The other motorcyclists had cut and run. It's just this twisted thing on the ground, a mass of metal and flesh, and the culprit is you.
You're grabbing onto the Death Note with slippery fingers, and running into the nearest alley, somehow scared that you'll be placed at the crime scene. You feel sick.
"I… I've killed two people…" you don't recognize the hunted sound of your own voice. "I've killed… two people. Me!" You have your life ahead of you. You're going to be Director of the NPA, surpassing your father. You're going to go to college. Not have a juvenile record…! You can't be a criminal, a murderer. There's no way you can fix this. "What… do I do?"
You can't tell anyone. Like anyone would even believe you! It's just a notebook! This is a horrible secret, but it has to be a secret. If you just… "get… rid of this evil thing…" yes. Exactly. Let someone else deal with it. Someone else…
No. Wait.
Are you really going to just… drop it in an alley? Wait for some other unfortunate person to pick it up and kill who knows who else with it? Someone could even kill you! And… anyway… a notebook like this, this death god's notebook, it has to be magic. It belongs to someone, who's probably on their way to collect it even now… someone who can probably already tell you've used it…
It's late, and the sky is very bright, with the streetlamps under it. A void of uncanny blue, fading into night far above.
That first guy, at least… "I was actually doing a service, killing him," you reason. "But what about the second guy…? That wasn't worth the death penalty, what he did…" okay, he was harassing a woman. It was a tense situation. But still… no. "No, wait." He'd been about to rape her, hadn't he? You're sure you'd even heard her scream! You're pretty sure the motorcyclists had grabbed her, in fact, you can remember Shibuimaru unbuckling his belt… that's right, you were just stopping a rape! And anyway… "this is what I've been thinking all along." It's serendipity, finding the notebook like this. "This world is rotten. It needs to be cleansed. I… with this notebook… I can actually do it." »
« January 10, 2004. It's not ideal, but over the next few days you're going to have to kill a lot more minor criminals, so the ones you killed during your potato chip trick don't call attention to themselves. You've already figured out how; it's absurdly easy. That's L taken care of, for the moment anyway… now you just have to buy Ryuk an apple…
"Man, the way you go around treating shinigami," Ryuk says, as he gobbles the apple you hold out for him, while you rest on a park bench, away from prying eyes and ears. "First you make me find all those cameras… and then it's 'forget about eating apples in the house?'" You stand up as he finishes the core, and when Ryuk wipes his mouth on his sleeve, he adds, "I might just write your name into my Death Note."
You laugh. Sure, it'll happen someday, but there's no way this is anything more than an idle threat. Because things are just getting started, and Ryuk is too interested to see what you'll do next.
As long as you keep telling a good story…
You're as safe as can be. »
« June 1, 2004. "There's no way I'll be able to keep pursuing Kira if somewhere in my mind I suspect myself," you say. "I want to clear this up as soon as possible. This may take a while but it's probably the fastest way. No, this is the only way," you finish, with conviction. You look toward L, who has his back toward you, and perform for the rest of the task force the image of someone suffused with purpose; a noble and self-sacrificing martyr. "But you have to agree to not let me out until you've determined for sure whether or not I'm Kira. No matter what I say, Ryuzaki." It's an extra little bit; unnecessary as far as L is concerned, but for the rest of the task force to see you insist on it and for L to agree will legitimize the relationship between you. When you lose your memories, who knows what crazy thing you'll come up with to explain your situation and how persuasive you'll be about it. By then, two weeks, 14 days, will have passed, and the fake 13-day rule will prove you're not Kira, but you doubt L would ever be satisfied with a mere two weeks. Insisting on this casts you on his side in the rest of the task force's minds, instead of against him, and bringing up 'no matter what I say' plants the idea that you might lose your nerve when faced with the reality of your situation, subtly easing the way for you to change your personality and have the others write it off. Furthermore, the longer your confinement lasts after you lose your memory, the less pertinent their memories of your previous actions and pattern of behavior will be. This might be mostly unconscious as far as the understanding of the rest of the task force goes, but for L, it may be enough to at least give you an out when he's suspicious of your sudden turn from collected to terrified. You know enough about yourself, at least, to predict that without the facts you know now, and the knowledge that you're the one in control of this game, you'll probably freak out.
"I understand…" L answers, looking back at you with a subtle downturn of his mouth. He looks as unfazed as ever, but that, like everything about L, is deceptive. You can tell that he's put-off, that he doesn't know what you're planning (though he suspects you more than ever) though his soft, childish face gives barely a hint of it. "But I can't even imagine how long it would take for my suspicion of you to dissipate. So be prepared for that."
You're prepared for anything up to a year, maybe a year and a half, in search of the "Third Kira" you've planted. Any longer, and it's not L you have to worry about, but Rem. The choice of a power-hungry ambitious type who isn't too smart should take care of that problem, though.
"Yagami-san," L says, turning his head slightly in your father's direction, "can you come up with a reason why Light-kun will be away from home for a while? You'll need to."
"But this is all so sudden…" your father protests, his eyes wide, his face a line of tension. He steps forward and his voice raises as he continues, "why should my son be put in a cell and…"
"Give it up, tōsan," you say resolutely, and he falls silent. "I need to do this for myself. And if I'm not Kira, then I'll catch the person who's caused this to happen to us. Kira needs information to do his killings… I'm certain of this fact," you say. "By being locked away and shut out from gaining information, I want to prove my innocence and chase after Kira."
"B…but what about college?" your father asks. You're not sure if it's just a last ditch attempt to get you out of confinement, or if he's really shocked you would go this far. You should know this about me, you think with grim humor. If I have to, I'll go further than anyone.
"At my level… I can miss a year or longer and still be fine, you know that, tōsan," you say. "How about this as the reason? I'll call kāsan and say that I decided to live on my own with Misa, but my stubborn tōsan would be totally against it, so I'm going to be out of contact for a while." You say it warmly, so he knows you're not really trying to cast him as the bad guy here, but even so his face pales with shock, and he's speechless as you continue, "then you just have to say something like 'I'm disowning that ungrateful son!'"
He looks as though he's seen his own death. But you turn away, unaffected; not even letting on you've noticed.
"Are you serious… Light?" Soichiro asks, in a voice full of more emotion and anguish than you think you've ever heard from him before.
"Yeah, by taking away my own freedom," you say, "I'll defeat the fear of Kira that dwells within me."
As predicted, mom is scandalized when you tell her. "Light, how can you do this? Living on your own, with a girl like her… you're in college!"
"Then that's the perfect time to do something like this, isn't it?" you say.
She sighs. "But there's no need to move out…"
"It's no good, kāsan," you say. "I really care about her. I want to do this, and I need the space. It's better to make a clean break of it now, and then, when I introduce her to you guys properly, tōsan'll know I really mean it when I say I want to be with her."
"And you do?" mom asks, hesitantly. "Really mean it? This isn't just some… phase? It's worth risking all that, to be with her?"
"Yeah," you say, your voice unexpectedly thick. "I'm sorry, kāsan."
"No. Light, don't be sorry. Don't ever apologize for something like that. If this is really what you want… I'll talk him around."
"You—? I don't think it'll be that easy," you say, conscious of everyone around you, listening to this little stage-play: to your father, with his look of anguish; Ryuzaki's unimpressed stare; Aizawa and Matsuda both worried—and Ryuk, a silent, grinning shadow behind you.
But mom only makes a small teasing noise and then says, seriously, "have some faith in your mother, won't you?"
You smile softly. "Okay. I will. But for now, this is goodbye."
"I wish you could've said goodbye properly," mom says, with sudden melancholy. "You weren't even here when I woke up today. If only for Sayu's sake…"
"I know, kāsan," you say. "I really wish things could be different for her sake, too."
She's quiet for a long moment, and then says, "Good luck, Light."
"Thank you, kāsan." »
April 7, 2004. « "You'll notice he doesn't say 'I'm certain that Light isn't Kira,'" Ryuk says with a laugh. »
"Kira is evil…" dad says. Your face turned down and away, the thought ripples through your mind: he thinks I'm capable of something like this. "There's no denying that…" Soichiro says. You can't look at him. Stripped of Ryuga's casual pronouncements of 'very little suspicion' is the terrible truth sitting in this hospital, lingering by your father's bedside. It's in Ryuga's pointed chain of evidence and dad's careful manner as he says, "but lately I've been starting to think of it more like this… the real evil is the power to kill people."
Why is he saying this? Why now?
"Someone who finds himself with that power is cursed," Soichiro continues. "No matter how you use it, anything obtained by killing people can never bring true happiness."
"You're absolutely right, Yagami-san," Ryuga agrees quietly. "If Kira is an ordinary human who has somehow gained this power, he is a very unfortunate person."
July 23, 2004. Day fifty-three of confinement. Aizawa takes you out of the cell; but when you ask him what's going on, all he can say is that something's been worked out between L and your father. "I don't know the details," he explains, gruffly apologetic.
He hands you a change of clothes, and you hold them with a sense of unfamiliarity. …New clothes? It should feel like a good sign, maybe dad's gone home to get you something… but you can't help a feeling of uneasiness that's growing with every moment. If L were really convinced… or even if he'd changed his mind… you're sure it would have gone differently. Something's wrong.
Oh, come on! You're so paranoid, you can't even admit when you've finally won?
But he said 'I'm sorry.'
You're cuffed again once you clean up, and you're blindfolded and taken down into what ends up to be, when the blindfold is removed, a basement-level car park of some kind. Then you wait, until a car drives in.
Dad…? Can that really be…?
He looks… terrible. Older, by far, than you recall, and with new lines of stress on his face. His eyes look almost crazed, and for a moment, you almost turn to Aizawa and ask to—what… be put back in your cell? Don't be ridiculous. A few weeks of solitary confinement shouldn't be enough to turn you into a nervous wreck!
"You take it from here, Chief," Aizawa says, opening the back door for you so you can slide in beside Misa.
No one's taken the cuffs off yet.
Maybe it's another test, you decide, with a grim kind of humor. Of course L wouldn't make my release easy… "what's going on, tōsan?" you ask, leaning forward in your seat. He hasn't spoken to you, and maybe that's why your insides feel like they've been weighed down with stones. It isn't like him. If you're being released, he should be… if not happy, then at least… something, right? He hasn't even looked at you. "Are we finally being released and cleared?" you ask, ignoring Misa's nattering beside you.
"No," Soichiro answers grimly. "Right now you two are… being taken to your execution."
For a very long moment the words just echo in your head, and you stare toward his stern shoulders as he drives. He is not looking at you.
"An underground facility has been set up and your executions will be carried out in secret," he says. "I volunteered to take you there…"
"Execution?!"
Your voice is high with terror.
This isn't—this isn't happening. It's not— this isn't— "what are you talking about, tōsan?"
"L has concluded that Yagami Light is Kira and Amane Misa is the Second Kira. He's declared that once you two are executed, the killings will end."
This… this isn't happening. L wouldn't.
"I thought the killings had stopped…" you say quietly.
"No, they've continued," Soichiro says.
"They have? That's not what I was told…" is this a test after all? You're sure there's a way this all makes sense. If you could just organize your thoughts for a moment—
"L was probably keeping it from you to procure a confession," Soichiro says brusquely. "That's of no importance to you now. L has promised that your deaths will stop the killings, and Interpol and the U.N. have agreed to the proposal. Kira will be eradicated in secret…"
"No way!" you're shouting. You shouldn't be shouting, you— you have to— "Wait, tōsan! I'm not Kira!" In the horrible months you'd been in confinement that phrase had turned into a mantra, almost unlinked from meaning: 'I'm not Kira.' 'I'm not Kira.' It slips out like an unwanted refrain, familiar but for the person whose mercy you're pleading for. This can't be happening. You never thought you'd have to say it to your dad— this isn't… this isn't your dad—
"It's not my choice," he's saying quietly. "It was L's. L controls the police. He's solved numerous cases and never been wrong."
"Tōsan!" you're leaning forward, pleading— "you believe L over me?" this doesn't make sense. If Kira is killing again—L knows Kira couldn't do that from within a cell like you'd been in… L wouldn't say that.
Your dad wouldn't believe it.
"L is saying that if this doesn't stop the killings, he will take responsibility and end his own life."
"L… What is he thinking?" (he said 'I'm sorry')— "I understand that from the facts we have, this may seem like a reasonable assumption, but… this is a mistake! L is making a mistake! Why would he come to a conclusion like this…?" you've done nothing to precipitate this… even if the governments were pressuring him, would L just fold to that? No, he'd rather fake your death, he wouldn't stake his life on a theory— "something's wrong here," you try to explain. "This isn't like L at all… The L I know always solves his cases with hard evidence. Why would he let it end like this—?"
Maybe you were wrong about Kira, but you can't be wrong about L. You've spent too much time making sure you know what drives him, your psychological profile is accurate, you know it—
"We're here."
The car swerves to a stop in the middle of a gravel underpass.
"Where is this?" you ask uneasily. "Why did you bring us to the middle of nowhere?" This is a test. This is some kind of test, isn't it?
"Are you letting us escape?" Misa asks, inordinately cheerful.
"Nobody will see us here," Soichiro admits grimly. He continues with steely determination, "I've brought you here instead of the execution ground… Light…" he pauses, then continues, inexorable. "I'm going to kill you, and then myself."
"What are you saying, tōsan?" you shout. "Y…you can't be serious…?" This isn't—he wouldn't— no, even if he could drive you to your execution, would he really kill you face to face? Premeditated? That kind of action requires a degree of either hatred or disassociation from your victims that you can't picture your father being capable of, but—
Misa's screaming too, accusing him of being no different from Kira; but he is different. You know it.
"No…" Soichiro says. "I am different from Kira. I have the responsibility of being his father and the police chief."
He takes his duties more seriously than anything else… you know that… but would he really…
"You're insane!" Misa screams.
"Tōsan, Misa's right!" you say earnestly. This isn't—this isn't rational. No matter how much your dad reveres L… if L's lost it, surely he wouldn't follow suit without question… "If we die here, we'll never uncover the truth! We should run away! The truth might come out—no, I'll find the truth while I'm running!" He has to care about justice, still—if he's prepared to do this—and an execution without evidence, that's—
"It's too late, Light," Soichiro says tiredly. "It's already been decided by those above me." He's reaching into his breast pocket.
But he always takes the word of his superiors, that's how he got this far, can he really care more about that than his ideals? (you remember arguing with Ryuga, once, about the fact that people always tend to break their ideals under threat of death. Your father isn't under threat of death but perhaps, no, of course, his reputation, you've dishonored him, he's convinced of it, how are you supposed to fix this in a couple of seconds—) "you're dying either way," dad says. "At least this way it'll be by my hand." Like he's showing you a kindness?
"Stop! Tōsan! I swear I'm not Kira! If we die here, we'll fall right into Kira's trap! Don't you see that?" It all makes sense now—Kira's framed you—he's convinced every government and even L himself that you must be Kira—
Your father is holding a gun.
"Amane…" Soichiro says. "Light and I will die here, but there's no reason for me to kill you. The police will find this car soon. You'll be executed at the planned site…"
"Listen, tōsan," you say, and you're trying to look at him, to plead with him and force him to actually see you— "if we were Kira and the Second Kira, there's no way we'd let you kill us! There are no witnesses here! If we were the kiras, then…"
"Shut up!" your father shouts.
…we'd kill you.
"Tōsan!"
I'm your son…
If there's any time to scream now would be it. You haven't screamed—wordless and loud—since you were a boy, but you'd always thought that if you had a reason, if you were in some kind of danger, if you needed to, if you wanted to, you could. Somehow, even amid your terror, you have the space to feel disgusted with yourself: when instead, faced with death, all you can do is beg and plead, clutching to the last edges of your pointless control.
"Light, from one murderer to another…" Soichiro says, with something that is so calm, it is as though rage has taken on another state, "I'll see you in hell."
He thinks—
He actually thinks you're Kira.
"Stop it!" Misa is screaming, and—
BANG
« June 1, 2004. When you hang up the phone, L holds out his hand for it, and you give it to him, watching him put it in his pocket. One more bit of your freedom taken away. He goes poking through drawers until he finds a pair of handcuffs, noise-cancelling headphones, and a blindfold visor.
"Jacket off, Light-kun," L says quietly, and you slide the jacket off your shoulders, hang it over the side of a nearby chair, beside your watch and the contents of your pockets. A quiet has fallen across the room, as though the definitive nature of what's going on has just begun to sink in; and you're watching the way L is watching you; standing in his usual slouch, the handcuffs dangling from two fingers. Without words, you meet each other's eyes in a silent understanding that this battle of wills has only just begun, that this is only another move in the game. He steps forward, and you hold out your hands in front of you. Clink. In two quick movements, he's hooked the metal loops closed and locked in loose circles around your wrists. He picks up the headphones, then, and puts them on you, and you feel the silence grow stronger, with a suddenness like being dunked underwater. The rush of your breath through your lungs, your pulse, your heartbeat, become distinct noises. And L's eyes never leave yours.
He steps away one last time, comes back with the visor, and lifts it carefully to your eyes, sliding the frame carefully over your ears and, when it jostles the headphones, causing a dull thump in the silence. You're still watching him; his eyes the color of the visor, an impenetrable glass. His touch, of all things, is delicate.
He presses the visor up over the bridge of your nose, and by increments, wipes away the rest of the world. »
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