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The child was a curse.
Even Yoshikage Kira could admit that it was not a curse undeserved, but a curse none the less. It plagues him. A cruel and taunting reminder of the worst mistake of his life. That rips into his silent peaceful nights with its incessant screeching. Sucking him dry of whatever light he had left within him.
It's asleep now, thank fuck. However, it's the one night he can't sleep physically that it decides to be a bit more lenient on him. He's not sure why he's so restless, because he's definitely spent from the past while of having to care for this little brat. But he's tossed and turned for a while, almost hoping for it to wake up again to either be fed or changed or seemingly just to agitate him, to give him a reason to waste his night. But this time it doesn't, and Kira is long past sleep. Miserably, he considers exactly how he ended up bound to this thing.
His first and most natural conclusion, is Reimi; the girl in pink who's smile still haunts him in his silent moments well post mortem. But then, when he really thinks about it, the ghastly chain of events starts well beyond that. Around four years ago now, in fact.
He saw that painting. Leonardo da Vinci's ever so famous Mona Lisa. A near blessing back then, but a thorn in his side in the present. He was thirteen when he saw it in its full beauty for the first time, his eyes drawing to one specific body part like metal to a magnet. Well-manicured, delicate, gently folded over her knee. He felt the heat rising in the lower parts of his body, uncontrollably. He'd never closed a book so fast in his life. And with it, he tried closing down that part of himself. Squashing it as far down in his brain as it could possibly go.
It didn't get any easier as the years past. It seemed all his dear Mona did was open up the floodgates. Every girl his age he passed he seemed to look at their hands first before anything else. Especially one girl in particular, who always wore the most adorable shade of pink nail polish that just drove him up the wall.
He wasn't sure why he did it. All of it, but particularly asking her out in the first place. Maybe it was to prove to himself that the hand fetish was just the thin layer over the top of his sexuality he just had to break through. But she'd agreed, unknowingly setting her demise.
The first week or so of their relationship was okay. In fact, it was rather nice. Reimi was nice. She was kind to him. Kira didn't have a lot of friends. Not that he was completely left out, or even picked on. No-one hated him. At least he hoped not. He just preferred his own company most of the time. The only other big female presence in his life, his mother, was an unstable one to say the least. She'd claim she loved him and that he was her last minute miracle child one minute, then scold him for hours on end for something completely arbitrary the next.
So, dating Reimi wasn't bad. It was almost a comfort even. A relief. Some parts of it were awkward, as any first high school romance would be, establishing boundaries and so on. But then it came to it.
They were in Kira's bedroom one night. His mother was out of the house, so she wasn't there to unceremoniously barge in on them and catch them red-handed. His father was downstairs, and not likely to go looking for him. And, honestly, Kira just really wanted to prove to himself that he was capable of loving Reimi sexually for more than just those pink nails. Reimi seemed to get his muted cues that he was giving off, and seemed to play to his advances. It was just that easy. The last thing his moronic sixteen year old brain thought of was using any sort of protection.
It wasn't even worth it. Physically, it felt good, as it should. But emotionally, he was underwhelmed. It wasn't like seeing the Mona Lisa those few years ago. It wasn't like stealthily watching the girls in his class file their nails from across the classroom. It was just... okay. And that scared him.
He wasn't the same around Reimi after that, and the two eventually broke up not long after. Kira just figured she deserved better than him, especially if the only way he could get off to her was through her nail polish. It still burned itself into Reimi's poor heart, especially after having shared such an intimate moment with him. Just as her posse of girl friends' glares burned into Kira in the hallways. It didn't bother him too much though. In fact, about a couple months after, Kira found he had a bigger issue to deal with than the girls' silent death threats.
His symptoms started as minor annoyances to him. So, he'd brushed them off as. The nausea being the biggest one, which him and his parents had decided was a stomach bug and left it at that. Though it did give him a chance to stay home from school and let his parents tend to his ever whim, vomiting almost every day was less than an pleasant experience. Despite this, his appetite heightened, baffling him and his parents.
It wasn't until he was getting dressed one morning, that the thought occurred to him. His trousers were so unusually tight on him. He lifted up his shirt in his confusion. His stomach had rounded and curved. His brow furrowed at the unwelcome new shape. His appetite hadn't changed that much, at least so he thought...
Then it hit him. Suddenly and horrifyingly. It all made sense. A little too much sense. He knew about the symptoms of pregnancy well enough, from countless biology lessons. Yet, he'd somehow missed them in real life.
He tried to calm himself from having a breakdown right there in his bedroomy, especially when his parents could walk in at any minute and obviously want an explanation. After all, he didn't actually know<span;> <span;>yet. And luck had always been by his side up until now. It served him. Surely fate wouldn't betray him now. He had plans for a nice, quiet future. A baby, this baby, was not part of it.
But then he did know. A little neon pink plus sign materialised itself on that stupid piece of plastic, and his fate was sealed. And then he allowed himself that mini panic attack. Clenching the test in a frustrated fist as he sank to the cool tile floor of the bathroom, weeping openly but silently. He still didn't want his parents asking him what was wrong. They wouldn't like the answer, that was a given.
"Yoshikage, would you hurry up in there!?" a familiar masculine voice called from the other side of the door. Kira wiped his eyes dry as best he could. He opened the door, hoping to scurry off to the solitude of his room without his father noticing his distress... or perhaps even the shape of the curse in his pocket. Fortunately, he did not pick up on the latter. He did, however, pick up on the former. "Son, are you alright?" He stared straight into Kira's reddened eyes as he spoke, with a look of genuine concern. Kira shook his head in dismissal, brushing past his father without another word.
One of his biggest concerns in that moment was Reimi, the mother of his child. She'd have to know eventually. And Kira wasn't entirely sure he could trust her yet. Sure, she'd given him no reason for him not to trust him. But, she still had her group of loyal friends. Not a large group, but a group none the less. Who's to say her friends are anymore trustworthy than her. If Reimi told them she'd gotten Kira knocked up, they'd probably spread it around school like the plague before Kira had any say in the matter. He'd be the next class gossip. He shuddered at the thought. To anyone else, it would be paranoia. To him it seemed inevitable. So long as Reimi was alive, he was doomed to be Morioh Cho's next scandal...
In this messy chain of anxious thoughts, a rather devious idea began to form in Kira's brain. One most ordinary people would immediately push down and even scold themselves for even considering. But perhaps Kira wasn't so normal anymore. So, rather than trying to ignore the idea, he built upon it. Planning his every move.
Reimi had parents, obviously. Reimi had talked about him meeting them, but due to his disappointing experiment that never happened. But they would have to go, preferably before Reimi. So, he would leave no trace. And then there was her dog. He'd have to deal with that before it even spotted him, so it didn't bark at him and arouse suspicion. Which would be tricky, but would have to be done lest he wanted to land himself in even worse trouble. After that, Reimi would be easy to overpower... it'd be so perfect.
So, not a few nights later, Kira had snuck himself into the Sugimoto house through the kitchen window, a kitchen knife in his trouser pocket, without a single sound. The dog was asleep by the back door. It hadn't noticed him yet. Good start.
Gingerly, he tiptoed towards the dog. He knelt down before it, trying to figure out his best course of action without rousing it. He watched in fear as it yawned and slowly lifted its head up from its paws. It was a reflex action, as Kira grabbed the knife from his pocket and slit the poor hound's throat. He breathed a sigh of relief as it died without a sound.
Right, now time to move on to Reimi's parents. He hunted around the house for a short while, finding their bedroom. When he found them,they were fast asleep. Blissfully oblivious to the fact they wouldn't wake up. Oh, how perfect this was. The job was so easy. Why had he bothered worrying over it at all? Their blood was on his hands in mere seconds. He'd used their own pillows to muffle any and all of their screams, and given them their end
"Mom! Dad! Wake up there's someone in the-" Kira whipped his head around to see the very girl he was hunting staring at him, wide eyed, tears streaming down her face. It wasn't even a milisecond before she let out the most ungodly screech. He could scarcely reach her as she slipped away from his lunge and ran back to her room.
He ran after her. He didn't barge into her bedroom immediately. Some instinct of self-preservation told him to wait for a little bit. So, he just put his ear to her bedroom door, assessing his situation.
She was talking to someone. A child by the sounds of it. Which was odd as he'd never remembered Reimi talking about having siblings at all, even before they started dating. She was going to sneak them out the window. And, yes, Kira realised that a child would be easy enough to kill too. But, if he killed Reimi as soon as the kid had scurried off, then the kid wouldn't have seen him. Wouldn't be able to even report what he looked like. It wouldn't matter wether he lived or died. And Reimi's door wasn't locked, so he waited.
"Okay, Rohan. I'm gonna count to three and then you'll go, okay? One..."
His heart was pounding in anticipation. He almost felt giddy from the thought of half his stresses ending.
"Two..."
Kira opened the door.
"Three."
Reimi dropped Rohan in the surprise of hearing Kira's deep, almost predatory voice. She was shaking. Like a mouse under the claws of a cat. He drove the knife into her back as she yelped. And then a second time, and a third for good measure. Then she was gone. The job was done. No going back now.
The thought of what he'd done hadn't really settled in until he was washing up his bloodied clothes and knife as quietly and quickly as possible, so as to not wake his parents. It was as relieving as he'd assumed. Maybe now he wouldn't be as much as a name in people's mouths as he'd thought. And there was no leftover fear of Reimi's rejection of him or the baby.
So why on earth was there this ugly clenching around his chest. Flashes of Reimi gently pecking at his lips, Reimi laughing at a really stupid joke of his, Reimi sobbing as she told that Rohan kid that everything would be okay so long as he listened to her. She'd make a lovely mother...
No. The more he dwelled on those thoughts, the more he'd regret what could not be mended. It was better if he just pretended that he'd never even heard the name Reimi Sugimoto. But something within him was making that very hard to do. And he didn't mean figuratively. No, there was this squirming sensation within his abdomen. It was moving, catching Kira off guard for the slightest of moments. Of course, once one thing was sorted, another problem arose up from the ground, like a massive fern that overshadowed him no matter what he did.
For example, he still had to tell his parents.
He did everything in his power to truly sweeten them up before them. Doing chores around the house even when they didn't ask him to, buying his mother small gifts as a surprise. And they called him a good boy. Said there was never a more bright and polite child in Morioh. And Kira just smiled at them...
...because that is definitely not how they felt when he actually told them.
"Pregnant?" His mother stared at him, barely processing the news. "Yoshikage, you said... pregnant?" His father stared at him in shock. Kira wilted under their gazes.
His mother put her face in her hands and laughed softly, though none of it was very funny. To any of them. "I can't believe it," she whispered, shaking. Though Kira learned the hard way that this was not out of fear or worry. She was shaking with fury.
She lifted her head out of her hands, scowling at her son, who sat in front of her meekly. "How did this happen?" she yelled at him, demanding to know. Kira just stuttered, struggling to figure out the words his mother wanted from him, if such words even existed. She was beginning to piece things together on her own regardless. "It was that girl, wasn't it? Reimi Sugimoto? The one that died? I should have known..." She seemed to be more engaged with his situation with each word.
"After everything I've done for you, Yoshikage!" she continued to rant on. "Did you decide to ruin the Kira name on purpose? Just to spite me? Hmm?!"
"N-No, of course not mother, I-" Kira argued back weakly. His voice came out frustratingly broken and strangled. But his mother wasn't anywhere near finished with him yet. "Oh, and only if that girl hadn't been killed, I could just marry you off before anyone had to know! But no!" Kira winced at that one. His father gave him a glance that wasn't exactly accusatory but still pointed, the only time he'd looked at him through the entire conversation.
He watched on in horror as his mother began to cry. "No... Mother, please don't upset yourself." He jumped up from his seat to comfort her. "I'm so sorry. This wasn't meant to happen." And he meant it. Every word. This wasn't supposed to be his life.
"Oh, Yoshikage," she wept. "Promise me... Promise me you'll keep this to yourself. Okay?" Kira just nodded, his mouth dry. His father sighed, glancing at both his wife and son, unsure of who to pity.
From then on, things really changed. Kira had to keep the baby, regardless of his own feelings or wants. In his mother's words, she refused to have a son who wouldn't own up to his responsibilities. And, after a doctor's office visit and finding out that he was actually around five months along, his parents decided to pull him out of school for at least the rest of that year. They didn't even homeschool him during his pregnancy. "We're not letting you bother about your studies in this crucial time. It's not good for the baby," his mother explained off.
Another piece of normalcy stripped from him. All because of this baby.
As the months dragged onwards, Kira became stuffed up to the throat with the thing. A heavy weight that hindered his ability to move or do much of anything really. A bulging stomach that disallowed him to fit into any of his good clothes. That wracked his body with ugly, itchy pink marks that he knew could never fully go away no matter what he did. And it almost refused to come out.
Finally, a week and a half after his due date, the doctor's agreed to induce him. And, oh, if his pregnancy was torture, labour was traumatic. At its best, it started as uncomfortable but not incredibly painful. At its worst, it seemed as though his insides were being shredded uncontrollably.
He could only have one parent in the room with him, for reasons he was too... occupied to remember. He was in his right mind just enough to know to pick his father. His mother would only lecture him that his hollering was improper and constantly remind him at the worst times that he had no-one to blame for this agony but himself. His father just held his hand and sometimes attempt to speak comforting words to him, only to be told to shut the fuck up. He wasn't the best support, Kira supposed, but he was something. And in that moment Kira clung onto whatever small comfort he could get.
At long last, the kid actually had to come out of him. The entire time Kira felt like he was drowning. Suffocating. He couldn't think. He could scarcely breathe. All he could do was concentrate on bearing down as his body screamed at him to get this thing out of him.
He feels the cause of his suffering slip out of him. Something warm and slimy is placed on his chest within seconds. The doctor announces it as a girl. To Kira, however, it is completely and utterly sexless. Not even a baby, more of a creature at best. The doctors, his father, they all probably expect him to cry and cuddle this thing they've forced on him. To murmur lovey-dovey mush that the little shit can't even comprehend yet. He doesn't though. He doesn't even want to look at it. He just focuses on a space on the wall, barely listening to it wail.
The doctor makes him feed it. It's good for bonding, he said, probably having noticed that that is the exact thing Kira's struggling with. Well, no, Kira isn't struggling. He just doesn't want to have a connection with the thing that's practically ruined his life despite only being twenty minutes old. And he wants to tell the doctor this, but he'd probably get himself reported to the child protective services and then his mother might as well disown him for causing a scene. So, he follows instruction wordlessly.
He winces. It's not bonding. It's yet another painful and grueling task of the day. His chest aches as the being suckles on it. It doesn't care, so long as it's getting its nutrients from its creator. Only serving to make Kira hate it even more. Everything is just so awful.
It's not as though this child isn't completely devoid of affection. Despite crying over it when she found out, Kira's mother coos at it and showers it with love and pride. It's a replacement for her son's mistakes. A clean slate. A new tool to control. She even picks its name. Some traditional name from a dead relative Kira's never met. Not that he cares at all. She can have it, if it makes either of them happy. He tries not to hear his mother talking to it. "Goodness, she's a much sweeter baby than Yoshikage was, isn't she? Yoshikage was always so grumpy, looking, even as a baby. Don't you remember, Yoshihiro? No, [REDACTED] is much cuter."
Kira really tries not to hear that shit.
He goes home to a ruined body and mental state. All loose skin and bitterness. His mother is the only source of affection in the kid's life, and yet she herself wants none of the responsibility. It's Kira who changes all of her diapers, wastes away the hours he should be asleep feeding her. All for nothing. It's tiresome.
And now he's just stuck. Here, with this plague on his overall wellbeing. And God he'd do anything to have his old life back again...
Anything.
He sits up in his bed, glaring at the crib in the corner of his bedroom. Tentatively, he slides out of his bed, planting his feet firmly on his bedroom floor. He approaches the crib like a cat to a mouse before peeking into it, breathing heavily.
It's fast asleep. So fragile. Babies get injured so easily, don't they. He smirks to himself. If he just smothered it with a baby blanket, he could blame it on an unlucky case of SIDS due to unsafe sleeping. He'd be scolded for such a careless "mistake" surely, but he'd be met with pity in the end. And then this huge blot on his peaceful, quiet life would be dealt with.
He's about to do so, when it awakes. But it's different this time. It doesn't wail or cry or anything, it just... stares at him. With big blue eyes. As though it knows. Kira's breath catches in his throat. He freezes. This is nothing like his first murder. He looked Reimi straight in the eyes when she saw him for that flash of time before she ran off screeching, and it didn't scare him off. In fact, it even encouraged him. But this is different. Their is no fear in her child's eyes, unlike her. It's challenging him, and he hates that.
He wishes he had the strength in that moment to ignore itd stare boring into him and finish the job. But for whatever God forsaken reason, he just picks it up slowly, with shaking hands. He cradles it. He isn't sure why. This isn't making him like it anymore than before. It coos in his arms, just happy to be held as always. Kira almost feels as though it's mocking him, with those big blue eyes. Perhaps it's just the sleep deprivation talking, but he swears sometimes, in the right light, its eyes almost look... pink.
She's just like her mother.