Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He couldn’t breathe.

A distant pain, the world was far away as everything focused on the sensation that he was choking as he tried to get his eyes open. He was in bed. Why couldn’t he open his eyes?

No, it was just difficult and he was breathing but he couldn’t put it together. The world was bright when he got one eye open, shadows and glare and no matter how he tried to cough he couldn’t dislodge what was suffocating him. Sachiko – was she here? Surely, she could hear him struggling. The feel of linen under his fingers, sounds that were in a sea, a tinny noise of a voice. This wasn’t home.

“Dad – dad relax. Hey – he’s waking!”

Light. Light was here and could see and he saw a shadow move beside him.

“There’s a tube in. Don’t try to talk. They’re coming.”

Voices were all around him and all he wanted was for this to stop choking him. Nothing helped and his body kept trying to cough before the world was much more distant, Light’s voice included.

He had something lodged in his throat that he couldn’t get out but he felt himself breathe even if it panicked him that it felt against his will.

“Dad – they’re going to take it out. Relax. Just a minute more.”

Hazy memories refused to line up as he blinked, the room bright and he felt pain all through him, fingers gripping the sheet under them before he felt a hand on his.

“Dad, right here.” Light – his voice anxious and something else, something it had been that bothered him more. “You keep waking up and trying to take it out.”

Words and voices all mixed together. All he wanted was to not feel like he was being suffocated as he made himself not take this out himself.

Please, just get it out.

All of him hurt, movement and a sensation of being touched, his skin being pulled at and he winced. Fingers wrapping around his, Light was still here.

“Don’t move. They’re almost there.”

Belatedly, he realized they had been telling Light to talk to him and he tried to squeeze his son’s hand. Different languages, it wasn’t helping as more words came.

“They’re going to pull it out. It’ll feel bad.”

Nothing could possibly feel worse than what was happening now and it was taking everything to not pull at it himself. Then it was out in a rush, something dragging up from the inside of him and he leaned his head back, eyes watering, coughing, his throat burning as he tried to get air in.

“Deep breaths. That’s it. You can breathe, just slow down.”

Coughing, feeling as if he could barely move, vision a mess from tears but it got easier. His mind finally was catching up. A machine, they’d had a machine breathing for him and he tried to remember why –

Gunshots in his mind, the feeling of them tearing through his flack vest. Light was still holding his hand.

“Dad, they’re saying it will feel bad for a while. Your throat is going to hurt,” Light was telling him and he made himself pay attention, Light swam into focus and the horror of what he had done settled in deeper.

His son’s name and life span floated over him and Soichiro swallowed, a raw scraping feeling all the way down.

“They’re giving something to help with the pain. They say you’re breathing well.”

He was tired, not wanting to see anyone else, staring up at Light, trying to remember something important as his eyes slowly drifted closed, the pain still burning.

Slowly, the world began to make more sense to him each time he woke up. A woman that he had to look at, relieved she told him the truth about her name, had come to help him talk. He tried to apologize for his state but she patted his shoulder, told him everything was alright, she understood. He felt that she did and was reassured that she thought his voice would come back fully.

When he had first seen her, he had been relieved that it appeared her life was long.

Others were not so lucky and he tried to keep his thoughts away from it. A part of him wanted to go back into the darkness so that he didn’t know that one of his nurses would be dead by the end of the week.

“It could be from anything,” Ryuk had lazily told him, unimpressed over his distress. “It may be a disease process and nothing you do will change that.”

Ryuk – there was something that he’d had to readjust to no matter how much the Shinigami had tried to soften his presence. It had been startling, that large looming form before he’d remembered – his heart rate spiking enough that it brought worried staff.

Lying, he told them it had been a nightmare. It wasn’t that far from the truth.

“Do you remember anything?” Light asked him every time he came and Soichiro stared up at his son, knowing what the question was.

“No,” he got out each time, seeing the anger in those eyes staring back even if everything else was perfectly calm.

“Keep trying.”

He didn’t know if his son was mad that he’d almost died or that he almost died with Mello still alive.

Is he mad because I’m not giving him what he wants?

There were thoughts he’d had over the years about Light that he forced himself to brush aside, tried to rationalize that it was remnants of L, the real L. That paranoia in the first year of Kira, of L pointing out all the issues that surrounded Light. Surely, if Light was Kira he would be different, that there would be signs, that his son wouldn’t have followed the career he had wanted since he was eight and decided to be like his father.

Light had left him again and Soichiro stared up at the ceiling, Ryuk perched on one of the chairs that was never used in his small room. The doors to his room were clear, so they could always see him and he knew he was still in the ICU, his body a mess of wounds and stitches and a dozen different trappings to get him to heal.

It had been beyond exhilarating to know he could still move his feet. Someone came in to help with that, too, just like his speech.

He worried about the cost – how much it was to keep him alive even though Light told him not to.

“You’ll lose everything, the life you gave up along with your enhanced sight and memory if you return the book to me,” Ryuk had told him patiently when he had asked to be rid of this and it seemed like too big of a loss. That he would have then sentenced himself to death for so little purpose.

So, he watched the minutes of the lives around him tick down, of Light and his long life and that was a comfort. He was told that everyone else was alright, no one else had been hurt to his extent in the raid and subsequent explosion. That Mello was gone.

Mihael Keehl.

The face Light asked from him every day and the name along with the face he lied about not knowing.

He was as close to hate as he had ever been but he refused to write down a name, to kill someone that way. He felt, that if it had been a situation that was more routine, if Mello had a gun to someone, if he was actively threatening lives and his own weapon was a gun, he would have been able to do it. It would have been a burden that he bore the rest of his life, but of a different sort.

Matsuda had killed the man who shot him, Light had told him that, and he hurt over it.

Their gear had protected them from the ensuing chaos but Mello had nothing of the sort when he had done what he’d done. If he’d survived, he would be in poor condition.

“Do you remember anything?” Light asked him again on his next visit and Soichiro shook his head, disliking Light’s agitation, the way his mouth pressed into a thin line.

That rule, that terrible one where after the first name you had to compulsively write or you would die in less than two weeks was always in his mind.

The rest were there, they may have seen him, try to use it themselves if I tell his name.

Something was bothering him but he didn’t know what. He blamed it on stress – a lot of things had bothered him over the years as Ryuk sighed beside him, bored. Soichiro pitied him in some ways. Here, he couldn’t do anything but wait and it appeared he was haunted by this creature till the end.

Light had told him they had retrieved the book lost to Mello and another Shinigami whose name he couldn’t remember had taken it away. That they still had the one connected to his sight.

Would I try to write more to save my life if I had killed him? Would they have wanted me to?

He worried Kira would try to get his things back but he didn’t allow himself to focus on that now. His name was already known. If he was to die in that way, there was nothing to be done to reverse it, and he let it go.

Perhaps that other Shinigami is connected to Kira. Perhaps that is why I have not been bothered, that demands have not been made.

They had little in way of entertainment during these endless hours and Soichiro found a fight to watch because of his haunting company, knowing he would drift off as he constantly did, Ryuk seeming to enjoy it.

A hand in his that he recognized and he slowly opened his eyes, stunned that she was here.

“It’s okay,” Sachiko told him and Soichiro shook his head, his still healing throat aching. “It took a while for us to get out of Japan.”

He nodded, unsurprised as she touched his face. They had moved him to another floor, a more normal room without the clear walls and more space with fewer machines. Sunlight streamed through the window and he saw Sayu beside her, dark eyes large and worried. Sachiko herself looked worn, and thinner, dark marks setting in deep beneath her eyes in sharp contrast without her makeup. But there was relief there, her fingers winding tight with his.

All he had done was add to her burden, what his work had put her through and he wanted to apologize to her again even if he choked on the words in his sorrow.

“We’re right here, everything is alright,” Sachiko told him, his daughter’s hand joining hers on his.

Long lives, they both had long lives and he couldn’t hold back the tears, Ryuk a silent shadow in the room.

The tiredness was still ever-present but it was lifting. They made him walk to the bathroom and it felt like a struggle with each step. There would be no police work for him, he knew that he was done with these injuries with every slow, laborious, painful step. It felt like a part of him had died in that explosion.

Sachiko was the one who bathed him and it was still hard with her small hands making sure he was clean, how useless he felt, looking up at her, seeing more than he should.

“I wish – “ Matsuda stopped, sitting by his bed, slumped forward and Soichiro forced back the urge to tell him to sit up straight.

“You did the right thing,” he said, voice still hoarse but recovering, much louder than it had been.

Matsuda shook his head and Soichiro didn’t like the self-loathing. “If I had just –“

“There were others with you, were there not?”

“Yes.”

“You alone aren’t responsible for everything, Matsuda.”

It barely helped and he knew the officer would blame himself for Mello escaping, for setting off that explosion until the day he died. There wasn’t a way for him to cure that, at least not now. Perhaps, with time, if he survived for a while longer, he could take away some of it, but Matsuda wouldn’t be able to hear it now.

“How are the others?”

“Good,” Matsuda answered, immediately perking up at the change of subject. “I think Aizawa has been ready to go home since we got here. He complains about the noise, the TV, the food, says it’s all too American.”

“He is aware of where we are?”

“Yeah,” Matsuda let out a small laugh. “He’s driving Ide nuts. Well, all of us nuts. I think he misses his kids but just won’t say it.”

He wondered if his men were avoiding him because of what he could see now.

“That would make sense,” Soichiro agreed, appreciating that Matsuda at least could find joy, seeing how long he would be alive. “Can’t say I’m a fan of the TV myself.”

“Oh, you just haven’t found the right things to watch!” Matsuda picked up the remote and immediately got to work and Soichiro was glad he was distracted.

There was an idea in him of telling one of his men Mello’s name but he still feared they would use the book. No one should be able to take life how that thing offered. Ryuk felt his views humorous and limiting but told him that it was always his choice.

Now, the Shinigami was paying attention, looking hopeful and he remembered Matsuda could see it.

“Oh, is your family coming back soon?”

“I told them to go eat so hopefully they’re getting air.”

And he meant that – he didn’t want Sachiko and Sayu bound in this room. The bench seat by the window turned into a bed and the staff had moved an extra bed like his own into the room so the two of them could be near him. It was a kindness to them, thousands of miles away from their home, but he wanted them to have fresh air, to be reminded that there was a world beyond him.

Digging around in his bag, Matsuda pulled out what appeared to be an apple and Ryuk was hungry, those long spidery fingers reaching out and plucking it up. It was the most want Soichiro had ever seen visible in that face and something pulled at the edges of his memory.

Chapter Text

What was quickly becoming apparent was that Light and Matsuda would be the only two he saw from the Task Force. The other three seemed to make themselves scarce, with excuses ranging from not wanting to intrude on a family matter to disturbing his recovery to chasing down a lead.

It was tiring, hearing them lie. He wished one of them would just simply state, “You can see our impending deaths now. I don’t want to know.”

At least it would be the truth.

The phone was ringing and he drug it a little closer by the cord as he sat in a chair in his room, the staff insistent he get up and move around every few hours. Sachiko was reading a book, Sayu was tired enough that she was dozing through the shrill noise as he got the phone close enough to easily pick up the handset, not missing how much his wife was restraining herself from just getting up to help him.

“Hello.”

“Chief,” Aizawa said, and it was Aizawa because the man could answer the phone in only two ways: commanding or starting a fight. “How are things?”

“Good. They think one more week here. Then we’ll have to find somewhere for a little longer before they’ll clear me to travel.”

“We’re working on where to put you guys up at. Light has an idea but hasn’t said yet, but don’t worry, we’ll find you a place where all of you fit in.”

“It would have to be for everyone,” he said, eyeing his wife who was watching him over the top of her book. “I can’t see it going over well if I was left to my own devices.”

Sachiko mouthed ‘no’ at him, her eyes glittering with amusement as Aizawa laughed.

“Yeah, we know. Not even going to entertain that one.” Aizawa cleared his throat and his tone was serious when he next spoke. “As to your guest – is it present?”

“No.” Soichiro stretched a little, feeling the impending ache that was just starting. Soon he would have to call the nurse to help him go back to where he had started the day. “Not right now.”

“Is it behaving?”

“Yes. As much as possible.”

Ryuk got bored, complained of the sameness, even more so when his wife and daughter were present and he lost the one person he had to talk to. The Shinigami had claimed it was just off looking at things but Soichiro wondered if he was stealing apples.

The best thing he could hope for was that no one would notice the occasional odd mishap. Ryuk had already knocked over a stray cup here and there due to its lack of mindfulness, spooking Sachiko and Sayu, excuses made for vibrations, or anything else he could think of.

How could he ever tell them what was haunting him, would continue to haunt him? He didn’t know if they would forgive him if they ever found out, or if they would forgive him if he gave up what he sacrificed to try to protect them.

Knowing them well enough, he could already hear Sayu’s argument for not returning his eyes and memories of the Death Note, that it would have been a waste when the consequences were already done.

“It hasn’t –“ Aizawa paused, searching for a word. “Threatened? Done anything that would make you think it would hurt anyone?”

“No. Not even in the slightest.”

“Good. I mean, we can’t trust it, but it keeps insisting it doesn’t even have a book to use.” Aizawa paused, seeming to contemplate his next thought. “I always thought something like that would be intimidating, unknowable, not – not –“

“Goofy?” Soichiro offered when Aizawa searched for a word and got a harsh laugh, Sachiko back to looking at him over her book. “Aizawa-san’s daughter has a new friend.”

“Ah,” she said, her eyes going back to the book in her hand.

“Sure,” Aizawa snorted, “She’s the one with the new ‘friend’. But yeah, that fits as well as anything else I suppose. I know it has good hearing and it would be hard to find a way to signal us if something was going wrong –“

“I’ll come up with something if it happens.”

“Alright.” Aizawa was quiet for a moment as Soichiro tilted his head back, looking out at the sky through the window with its shade drawn up high up on the seventh floor, parts of the city and treetops visible in a sprawling mass. “Still coming up empty-handed on our other query. We’ll keep you up to date because I know you want to be, but just work on getting better.”

I don’t know how much better is actually going to be. Soichiro made himself not think those kinds of thoughts, trying to convince himself that he would be close to normal again no matter how impossible that was.

“I will.”

They said their goodbyes and he hung up the phone, restless, wishing he could do something that wasn’t sitting here and waiting for the painfully slow healing process to keep taking place. The magazine in front of him had the same level of interest to him as it had before Aizawa called, being very little, but it was something to look at to while away the time.

Time that he saw as constantly ticking down all around him now.

A part of him wanted to insist on filling every minute of every day given how finite existence was, bookended by certain beginnings and ends that could perhaps be adjusted slightly but never totally avoided. Sitting here, like this, even if there was so little he could do, felt like a waste, that he was wasting what little he had left even if his family was here.

Not all of them. Light rarely comes and it’s always to talk to me about what I remember. Would he let me write in the book if I did profess the truth? The others saw Mello – I can’t tell them how to spell his name. It’s too dangerous. No one should die to this thing and no one should be giving up their life to do it. We are not that desperate to make simple paper solve our problems for us.

“Dear?” Sachiko asked and he raised his eyes to her.

“Tired,” he confessed. “Starting to get uncomfortable.”

She rose, calling the nurse with the touch of a button, speaking into the little speaker to say what was needed in her halting English. Someone would be along to help him, his ability to move was praised more each day and it was getting easier. Truly, the pain was starting to go away and he was adjusting but his leg would never be the same.

He’d never run again most likely and would find stairs difficult in large quantities. There had been warnings of residual pain. His ability to eat normal food was being expanded on and they told him he should have a normal life with his diet but it was different. Everything he had dedicated himself to work-wise was just gone.

She kissed the top of his head before she pressed her face into his hair for a moment, hand on his shoulder and he put his own over it.

They were still here. It was enough.

Sayu sat with him often, close enough to touch. Her eyes were always worried, hands fluttering as she took account of everything from how much water he had to assessing if he was hungry or didn’t like the food that meal.

She was actually worse than her mother but it was the most alive he had seen her since he had gotten her back, even if she still didn’t speak past a few, rare short words.

He cherished every time he heard her voice.

A knock and he moved his head, surprised to see a young man with a rather unusual name standing there at the threshold. Given the police guard on him, he had to be on the level but he was surprised that it was just for flowers. Typically, someone else would bring them up as the young man with a slight build and brown hair came in, a bit nervous, in a simple dress shirt and slacks pooled on top of what appeared to be black sneakers.

“Just a delivery,” was the answer to his unspoken question and Soichiro nodded, waving towards the table brought in to hold his small selection.

While nice enough, he was definitely nervous but there wasn’t a threatening atmosphere. Soichiro watched him put the vase down, plucking up the card from the small pronged holder. He was normally dressed, nothing about him stood out and an ID tag hung off his shirt pocket.

“What’s your name?” he asked, seeing the man stop cold.

“Oh,” the man laughed, rubbing his head. “I go by Matt. My real name’s weird to most and isn’t pronounced like its spelled. So, Matt’s just easier, looks like it should.”

There was a slight accent under the ramble and Soichiro was on edge. It was far too long of an answer to a simple question, though some do honestly have this trait and he was wearing an ID that may have another name, but with everything –

“Here, so you can see who they’re from.”

Soichiro took the small envelope from those thin fingers, not missing the slight yellowing on one, most likely from nicotine.

“Thank you, Matt.”

The man flinched a little and then composed himself. “You’re welcome. Hope you get better soon.”

Matt shuffled out, closing the door behind him and Ryuk laughed.

“That one did not look honest.”

“No,” Soichiro allowed, opening the envelope and pulling out the small card with flowers on the front. On the back was a short poem in English that his mind struggled with, not helped by the messy hand.

“Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
The back of Death’s rules,
Are lies to you.

   -From: A Friend”

Frowning, Soichiro tried to figure out just what that message meant, half a mind to try to stop ‘Matt’ from leaving the building, his hand reaching for his phone without thought. The back of Death’s rules? What did that even –

The notebook, the one he had traded for the life of his daughter, had rules on the front and back cover on how to bring death and the use of the book.

“I plan on testing the thirteen-day rule. It’s the only way to be sure.”

“Absolutely not, Ryuzaki. It’s the same as murder.”

“Too many are already dead and there are ways to soften it as much as possible.”

“No, there is never a justification for murder.”

L, the real L, had always believed that a falsehood. But how? They had never tested it, it was too much. Even with L’s plan of using convicts sentenced to die because they would be compelled to kill one another and if it was true, they were causing a death.

And if it was false – if it was false and those last rules were a lie –

“So-chi?” Ryuk asked, calling him by that strange name the Shinigami had concocted. “Something wrong?”

“Just a threat,” he answered, picking up the phone as he crushed the card in his hand suddenly afraid.

Then he stopped because if he called and had the building searched, he’d have to reveal what was on the card and Ryuk might be loyal to Kira. Another Shinigami had died to kill L, they had watched it happen. What good would it do to try to search for a man that was most likely already gone and tip his hand? It would just endanger his family more and he had already done that enough.

His family sat unknowingly in the same room as a creature of the dead.

He was surprised, looking up, that Ryuk didn’t look upset over his behavior, merely shrugged and shifted his attention back to the TV.

Probably used to this, by now. Soichiro reasoned, unnerved, and worried that Kira would be informed.

The question was – why would he be told this?

His mind mulled it over, considering if the young man who most definitely had a strange name, knew he could see true names and that was why he offered an explanation. It hadn’t felt like a lie, at least not fully. There was truth behind his wanting to be called Matt and Soichiro felt the accent may have perhaps been an English one. Which would tie him to Mello and Near. One of those two tested the rules and Mello was certainly ruthless enough to do it.

He was surrounded by hardened criminals, murderers already set in their ways. He never took the deal for the book or the eyes, instead having someone else do his dirty work. He’d had it long enough because of my weakness to test the rule for that. And the rule makes sense both ways – as truth because the book is evil enough to keep someone forced to commit murder to preserve their life no matter how much they destroy it. And as a falsehood, to protect –

Soichiro cut off his thoughts, smashing the paper more in his hand. He was taking the word of a murderer, a child who caused chaos and would have killed him with glee, threatened his daughter, threatened his whole damn family.

I shouldn’t believe anything he says. He could be quite possibly lying to me to cause more strife, to make me suspect someone close so that he can destabilize us, strike when we aren’t as aware as we should be.

It made sense, in a horrid way and his mind settled more as he rang for the nurse. He came, and Soichiro made it to the bathroom, covertly throwing the card in the toilet. Whatever the truth was, he wasn’t going to find it in rhymes and lies.

“Papa.”

She was hovering at his bedside, Sachiko going out to get some air as he pecked at his food. None of it looked appetizing right now, his stomach sour and not really wanting any additions.

“I don’t really feel hungry,” he told her, looking at what he thought they claimed was some sort of meatloaf. He wasn’t fond of the gravy or the corn, trying not to wrinkle his nose. Most likely, this meal came out of a can and box given how many people there were to feed and he couldn’t blame them for that. It must be a nightmare to run this size of a commercial kitchen. “I’ll eat something later on.”

Her frown deepened before she was going over to the small closet and dragged out a bag – his personal belongings he had come in with that they had been able to save. Little hands sorted and he chewed his lip, looking for the right words to tell her it was alright.

In her mind, the most she could do was to keep him company and make sure he ate so he didn’t go backward. One of those was failed, to her at any rate, and Soichiro tried to will himself to eat what was in front of him so she’d be less distressed.

When she pulled out a much smaller Ziploc bag that contained his wallet, his worst fears came true as she freed it, checking for money. He had converted to American currency and it apparently was still present as she seemed satisfied, folding it closed again.

“You don’t have to go –“ he stopped, the glower he got was impressive as she moved silently back beside his bed.

This – he hadn’t seen her do this for quite some time, not since she was younger and being told she couldn’t do something when she thought Light would have been allowed.

And in this case, she would be right in that regard.

You have to be able to talk, he thought, looking at her, head tilted back as she had the height advantage right now. But, it is a hospital, so they are probably used to all kinds.

Sayu was becoming more unhappy by the minute and he sighed, shifting his legs under the thin blankets, nervous and beginning to sweat at all the things that could go wrong.

She actually wants to leave, to go do something.

“You remember where it is? One floor up?” he asked her, thinking of the little place Sachiko had told him about when something was fetched that wasn’t whatever the meal served currently was.

Sayu relaxed and nodded.

“There should be stairs right by the elevator,” he continued, going from memory of what he had been told and she patted his hand. “Come straight back.”

She was walking away and he tried to think of a way to stop her because once it was in her mind to do something, there was little he could do to prevent it, especially in his current condition. The concealed men who guarded the door wouldn’t hamper her and his fingers inched towards the call light embedded in his bed controller clipped to the fitted sheet next to his left hip. It had a speaker in it, they called to see what he needed so they knew who to send and he could ask them to keep an eye out for his daughter. Even if it was never discussed, he knew the staff picked up that she needed more help and they were kind – they wouldn’t let her get lost.

Fears of having to lock the hospital and search for her, that she would get frightened and run, that something would happen naturally, that someone was waiting for her outside that door to be alone made him sweat more.

A glance over at Ryuk told him the Shinigami was bemused.

“Don’t tell me you want me to follow her. What the hell am I going to do? Wave my hands to all the people who can’t see me?”

He’d almost lost her once. He couldn’t stand it if something happened to her again. Memories of his recent visit by “Matt” and he was opening his mouth to call her back when the door just opened when she was a few feet away.

Instead of Sachiko, it was Light, who instantly frowned seeing where his sister was.

“What are we doing?” Light’s voice was careful, very controlled but Sayu still took a step back, clutching his wallet in her right hand against her chest. A glance towards him in bed, Light’s mood darkening further as he reached out to her. “Come on, you should sit down –“

She jerked away from him, uttering one word. “No.”

“You shouldn’t be by yourself,” Light tried, getting his own, personal glower and his attitude kicked in, the one he had always fostered and fed as her older brother, evident in his tone when he next spoke, snappy and irritated. “What were you doing anyways? It can wait.”

“Won’t eat.” It was soft, very soft, and he assumed Sayu would have to point when she got to where she was going, but her voice was still there, surprising them both.

“Because this crap really isn’t food. Here, I can go.”

“No.” It was louder, stronger and she sidestepped him. Soichiro was afraid Light would try to grab her for a moment. “I can.”

“How are you going to order, huh? Don’t be foolish. Let me –“

“Light,” he said watching Sayu get more distressed as Light tried to corral her. “This is a hospital. I’m sure they’re used to people who don’t speak or know the language. Your mother even mentioned they had pictures with everything.”

“Yeah, but that’s – that’s,” Light’s mouth pressed into a tight line as he thought of a delicate way to say something cruel about his sister.

Is that why you don’t see us? You don’t know how to handle this, that she upsets you?

It was an unpleasant thought but one he couldn’t pack away, shove back into a dark closet in his mind to not be addressed. Not that Light trying to take over was helping any of this. Sayu already felt helpless enough.

“Fine,” Light ground out, stepping away from the door. “Go do stupid things.”

She didn’t move, still with that glare, obvious that she didn’t trust him not to shadow her, or worse, wait till they were away from the room to pry the money away from her and march off to do it himself.

Matsuda came in, having most likely been with Light, and stopped short, taking in the scene before him, obviously regretting being present in a heartbeat. Soichiro laid his head back on his pillow, resigned that this would not end well with Light’s pride.

“I can come back. We don’t need to –“

“It’s fine,” Light snapped. “Sayu was just leaving.”

Matsuda balked, not missing the sneer in Light’s voice, that taunt that he could get when they argued and to her credit, Sayu didn’t back down either. This was probably the closest the two had been to normal in a long time, like how they had grown up when she wasn’t getting him to do things for him, or teasing him herself. When they argued, it often got like this.

“But – “Matsuda frowned looking over at him in bed.

“She wants to find me food. There’s a place one floor up that she’s going to.”

“Oh! They have good sandwiches –“ Matsuda cut himself off at whatever look Light cast his way. “Would you like me to walk with you?” he asked her instead.

Her eyes slid from Light to the officer beside him before she looked back at Soichiro.

“It’s alright,” he told her gently, knowing that Matsuda would encourage her instead of trying to do it himself, even if he could be overbearing in his own way. “She likes the stairs.”

“So do I.”

The amount of unhappiness his son displayed was stunning as they left, Matsuda holding the door open for her, Light stalking over to his bedside and Soichiro had a wild thought of Light doing something to him. It was irrational, he knew that, but just the sheer, unbridled anger made him conscious of his helpless state, his lack of ability to do much to help himself.

“I can’t believe you,” Light spat, fists curled at his sides. “Letting her go off by herself.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Soichiro waved at himself and at the walker beside them. “I still have drains and bags, Light. I have problems just standing some days still. Would you have liked me to hobble after her? Perhaps have Ryuk hold the drains for me?”

Ryuk snickered in his corner, unperturbed by the look Light gave him.

“You could have called someone.”

“I planned to call the nurse when she left. I know they have a lot, but they would have kept an eye out for her.”

“That’s it? That’s all you were planning?”

“Light, she’s traumatized not defective.” He made himself drag in air, to calm down because he felt Light was unnerved and simply reacting, something he rarely did. “This is the first time she’s wanted to do anything like this. And all she feels she can do for me is to make sure I eat.”

“That’s not an excuse.” Light had his arms crossed, pacing slightly, still upset and Soichiro wondered if they were in more danger than he thought or if Light was upset that there were things he simply couldn’t control, no matter how much he willed it. “You could have called me.”

“I didn’t know you were coming. And you won’t always be near the door.”

“I’d at least be able to contact the plains-clothed outside to make sure she didn’t have a freak-out.”

“Who says she would? I was under the impression it was quiet out there. It’s not the same thing as a crowded mall.”

He made himself not say the words to ask if Light was actually afraid for his sister’s well-being or if he was worried she would embarrass him. It was simply too ugly to ask.

“Why are you here?”

It was the wrong thing to ask, Light’s face showing something akin to hurt before it went blank. All that control, it was on full display now, Light rigid at the end of his bed.

“I wanted to see you. That was obviously a mistake.”

“Light –“ he tried but his son was turning only stopped by the arrival of Sachiko, thrilled to see him, patting his cheek and looking him over until she noticed they were missing someone.

“Sayu?” she asked, and Soichiro hated the terror she showed just from that one word.

“Dad was going to let her go out by herself,” Light told her before Soichiro could say a thing, Sachiko paling. “Matsuda showed up and went. She wouldn’t go with me.”

“Because you told her you’d just do it for her!”

Light bristled as Sachiko came over to him, puzzled.

“It’s one of those meals again,” she said, seeing his near-untouched tray and Soichiro let out a sigh.

“She got my wallet herself. It was her idea. I was going to call the nurse after she left to keep an eye out on her in case she got overwhelmed.”

Sachiko looked over, seeing his belongings bag on the chair, a slight frown but it wasn’t the same anxiety she had shown just a minute before. Light was near the door, anxious and ready to leave but not daring to upset his mother.

He’s always been ready to leave as soon as he arrives. Even at the old house when he would bring Misa or come to dinner. As soon as he came he was waiting for enough minutes to pass to be able to go. When did we become the burdensome obligation cutting into his life? I should have told him to not bother if he didn’t want to so badly, but he would have taken that wrong instead of trying to free him.

“She hasn’t wanted to do anything like that…” Sachiko’s voice trailed off and he nodded, reaching for her hand.

“I know. I didn’t want to discourage her. She needs to keep moving forward.”

They both looked at Light who shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable, his over-protectiveness being scrutinized. Sayu had been taken, locked up, feared for her life, had seen him come, and heard the order to kill her before he could hand over that book. He would be a fool to think that she didn’t know that the price for her life was great, or that it weighed just as heavily on her as those long hours alone and afraid.

“I’ll come back later,” Light said, voice tight.

“You can always come see me, Light. I want you to come.”

Light stared at the wall, nodding, a vicious swallow and it was clear how upset he was. “Sure. I’ll see you guys later.”

Their son was gone, Sachiko taking a seat beside his bed, frowning. “He was so upset.”

“He was trying to protect her. I know he was. It’s just, if he had just offered to walk with her as Matsuda-san had, it would have been fine.”

“But he tried to do it himself,” Sachiko finished with a small sigh. “He’s always been like that with her.”

“He’s been through a lot. And he’s still working actively at this point. I can’t imagine his stress. I’m stressed and I spend most of my time laying or sitting.”

She smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “We almost lost you to all of this. You are still recovering but you are alive. He can find his manners better.”

Soichiro let out a little laugh at that as they waited, trying not to worry, knowing that Matsuda would make sure she got back and that he was capable of soft words if she was scared. It was still strange, despite everything, to think of Sayu terrified. It wasn’t something that had been an innate trait but one learned and he hated Mello a little more for doing that to his daughter.

His thoughts drifted to the card with the flowers that the young man had brought them. Every time his eyes fell to the table where the arrangements were, he felt fear. Fear that he was being watched, listened to, spied on, desires to see what he would do with the information given that could well be a lie and just a new mind game to play.

All of this felt like a mind game and he thought of how on edge Light had become.

But it’s not just Light around me. Matsuda is the only one who comes to see me in person. The rest call and speak or drop things off at the desk. They won’t walk in, don’t want to know what I see.  I doubt any of them are hiding secrets with their names. Rather they fear the reminder that I am, that all things are mortal and will one day die.

Sayu returned, Matsuda beside her and she was smiling, a small plate in her hands balanced as she kept hold of his wallet still. Soichiro took pleasure in seeing both of their long lives, listening to Matsuda giving her little words of encouragement as she set a rather decent-looking sandwich in front of him as Sachiko moved the tray out of the way.

“She ordered it and everything,” Matsuda told them.

“It looks good. Thank you,” he told her as Sachiko smiled.

Chapter Text

Light had stopped asking about Mello.

“I have a place to move you until we can get you back home,” his son was saying and Soichiro nodded, unable to stop his eyes from drifting up and he knew it made Light uncomfortable, what he could see. “It’s nice, there’s room for all of you.”

“How are we affording this?”

“Don’t worry about that, dad,” Light said, not cross but Soichiro sensed he was exasperated. “Just work on getting better.”

“Light,” he started, hesitant, not sure how to bring this up as his son rose. “You have a long life. So does your mother and sister.”

“Oh,” Light got out, his face complicated, from distress to happiness to his usual calm and Soichiro knew this unnerved him. “Okay, dad. Just, just try to rest. We’ll get you back to Japan.”

He nodded, watching his son whisper something to Sachiko as she was coming back in, Sayu dozing in a chair close to the window, the sunlight hitting her hair and making it shine brightly as the blue sky stretched out behind her through the glass. Asleep, she looked at peace, as if the world hadn’t reached out and tried to drag her down into the pit.

“We get to leave,” Sachiko was saying as she came over, stroking his hair and he turned his face into her hand, so soft despite everything. “I will not miss this place.”

He laughed before he raised his eyes to meet hers. “I’m sorry you have the extra work. It’s a lot, especially without the nurses.”

“You walk well enough now,” she told him firmly.

“But –“

“No, it will be fine. You are temporary. You will recover, we will go home, and you will be with us.”

“Yes,” he breathed out, as always amazed at her determination, the sheer willpower in her that they would not be swept under. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, no matter how stubborn you are,” she whispered back, bending to kiss him and he longed to just pull her to him and never let her go.

It was still only Matsuda and Light and he truly felt that he may not see the other three ever again as they were moved into a sweeping room that reminded him of what L had once used when they first met. There were two separate bedrooms, a sitting area, a small kitchen to cook with groceries along with a dining table, even if he couldn’t fathom sitting in one of those uncomfortable chairs. His leg ached just seeing the hard edges of the wood and the unforgiving straight-edged back.

Tired as he was, his mind needed to know the whole layout and he found a little desk tucked away behind a half-wall as part of the large main room, complete with a little window that let in the light and the view of rooftops given how high up they were.

He swore they were in a hotel, that it had been that type of sign in the front, remembering the grand lobby with check-in and the glint of the highly polished brass trim under the crystal lights.

Maybe he had missed something, overwhelmed by how his eyes worked now.

“The master has a separate tub in the bathroom,” Light was telling him as he allowed himself to be led to what appeared to be a recliner in the main front room. “Standing shower, so it should be easy to use. They sent up a chair that’s fit for it, too. The other has a regular combination one with a tub.”

Soichiro wanted to ask how they were affording this, as he sat. He could semi-see if it was an apartment they were renting for a month, but most wouldn’t allow that short of a lease –

And this was a hotel. I’m sure it was a hotel when we came in. Maybe they do longer rentals but we are at the top of the building. This must be more for a week than I made in a month when I was working.

Perhaps the NPA was footing the bill. It would make sense even if he was reluctant to excuse the expense. He had his family with him, had almost died, and given his position before he retired, he could make it work in his mind even if he didn’t all the way believe it.

Not that they would give an officer like Matsuda something like this under similar conditions, he thought to himself, more perturbed than he should have been.

“There are groceries for you guys,” Light was saying as he looked up at his son who was hovering, Matsuda placing the luggage that came with his wife and daughter in the appropriate spots. “I had mom give me your sizes and bought you some clothes that might work a little better right now. The stuff you brought is here, too.”

Soichiro nodded, unable to speak, thinking of his sparse packing for this trip. It hadn’t been overly important what he was wearing. Sachiko would most likely be appalled at him if she knew and she most likely did.

“They have a chair in the shower,” his wife said coming over, the stress on her having lifted some.

“Yeah, thought it would be easier,” Light told her. “There’s food up here, too.”

Soichiro didn’t miss the pointed look Light gave his sister even if it didn’t register with his wife, the little spat the two had had still a sore spot in Light’s mind, at least.

Sachiko patted Light’s face before she went to go see, both of them watching her go, looking at everything and he knew just being out of that one room where they had mainly stayed outside of a few hours here and there was a relief unto itself.

“It would be better if we just kept it to Light and Matsuda. That’s who’s been seen so far and don’t want to raise eyebrows if we all started coming around,” Aizawa had told him earlier over the phone as a way of an excuse.

Somedays, he wondered if his men had lost respect for him. Not only was he the reason that Mello had become the threat he had, murdering who knew how many, but he had failed to kill him after insisting it be him, leaving himself near death, endangering all of them, and disabling himself because of his inability to take a life.

No, it would have been murder. No matter who was in danger, a part of me wanted to see Mello die, to see him beg and lose.

It wasn’t a pleasant idea, and he was afraid of when he saw the rest of them next if he ever would again.

Sachiko and Sayu were wandering in the direction of the bedroom, Sayu touching the fabric of the couch, saying something to Matsuda who was beside her that Soichiro couldn’t make out but it made the officer smile.

Looking up, he saw Light was displeased until he hid whatever he was feeling, clearing his throat.

“This entire floor is locked. It’s part of how they run it, anyways. Any service has been turned off and we’ve arranged for towels and similar items to be delivered through people you know.” Light paused and Soichiro nodded, remembering how in the elevator Light had needed the key card that was currently laid on the table to get to this floor. “The stairwells operate the same way. If you want air, go up to the roof, the card will deactivate the door alarm both ways for you and there’s no building nearby that’s as tall as this one. If there’s trouble, go up. We’ll get you from the roof.”

“Trouble?” Sachiko asked, watching Light, rubbing her arm absently as she came to stand by them. “Has – has there been threats?”

“No, mom,” Light answered, keeping his voice soft. “It’s just a precaution. Just – no matter what it is, go up, okay? We’re just one floor under the roof.”

“Okay,” she answered, nodding.

“If you need anything, including food, myself or Matsuda-san will get it for you,” Light said, giving another pointed look at his sister who stared back at him defiantly. “No wandering off in search of anything. It’s important.”

To her credit, Sayu nodded and Soichiro couldn’t see her doing anything of the sort right now. Before she had been taken, yes, he would have worried that boredom plus frustration mixed in with her curiosity would have blended together in a volatile way and the risk would have been far higher but not now. He couldn’t think that Sayu would not only brave the lobby by herself but the crowded streets and all the unknowns. She still had issues with the idea of people looking in the windows at them.

They had borrowed a wheelchair to make the move easier for him and he had been grateful, his own stomach still churning as he had been torn from keeping his eyes open to learn the layout and slamming his eyes shut because of the constant barrage of information he was privy to.

Every day of the rest of his life would be like this. Even just sitting in the car when they came here, Light driving with Matsuda and other unmarked officers behind them was fresh in his mind. The man standing on the corner waiting to cross with his overly large dog who would be dead in less than a year. The little girl who had been skipping beside her siblings and most likely mother given the names who would die in her twenties. The middle-aged woman who sat at the bus stop would live to most likely see her early hundreds if he had guessed her age correctly.

Ruthlessly, his mind had done the rough conversions from what he saw to human lifespan as Ryuk had taught him and he was working on simply not knowing. It was everywhere, things overlapping, present and bright, and relentless.

The hospital had been bad enough, but those people were only a sliver of what he had seen just going across the city. And he still had the flight home, his stomach unsettled at the imaginary airport he thought up, crowded and hot and noisy, Sayu already distressed and he would see everything –

“Hey,” Light whispered and Soichiro realized he had been staring off into space, his eyes unfocused even if they had been directed at the rather pleasant oversized pastoral painting across from him.

“I’ll help with clothes,” Sayu was telling her mother as they went to what he knew was the master bedroom, Matsuda smiling at them before his face took a more severe expression once they were in the other room.

Arms crossed, he looked unhappy and Soichiro didn’t know why until he saw Ryuk lingering by the complimentary fruit basket, his eyes greedily on the apples. Picking one up, Matsuda went towards what would be Sayu’s room as he and Light watched.

“In the bathroom. Eat it all,” they heard Matsuda growl. Ryuk was delighted and not even complaining about being bossed around.

This will be difficult. They’ll be here more, but ideally, there should be times they’re laying down, not in this main room. Though I’ll have to come up with reasons to leave the TV on for him at night.

Light had pulled over what looked like a small footrest, sitting down by his side, angled towards him by his legs, his expression telling very little of his mood.

“Don’t worry about this,” Light started and Soichiro scoffed. “I mean it.”

“How? Light, this is too much. I was hoping for a couple of beds and a clean bathroom –“

“Stop.” Light’s voice was sharper than probably intended and his son sighed, stretching out his leg slightly. “You don’t need to question everything.”

“It’s been my job to do that since before you were alive.” Soichiro didn’t make an attempt to hide the annoyance he felt, feeling as though his son had merely shoved him into a gilded cage so that he would behave and not be in the way. “If you thought I wouldn’t have questions, you never actually paid attention to your childhood.”

Light let out a small laugh but it was anything but amused.

“Trust me, well aware.” Now his voice truly was sharp and Soichiro wanted to start this over so they weren’t fighting all the time.

We used to get along better. I know we did. When L was alive, even with all the stress, we did better than free as we are now. How did we get to this? Is he that upset with me, with my mistakes, with –

“Dad, just relax, okay?” Light told him, interrupting the cascade of thoughts that once they began to loosen themselves threatened to continue their onslaught like water rushing towards a cliff at the mercy of gravity and speed, blind to the rocks below. “Mello is considered a national threat, even if his existence isn’t broadcasted as such publically. Your status is official as a protected law enforcement witness.”

Because I’ve seen his face. All of us except Light have seen his face and we are that much more in danger given what we know.

“The others, Light. I’m not the only one –“

“I know. Taken care of. They are in a different situation than you are right now.” Light sighed again, trying to calm himself down, to not make this a confrontation. “There is a physical therapist who is cleared attached to one of the departments that’s going to come work with you and a couple of nurses who will be stopping by from time to time. You aren’t just on your own.”

Soichiro nodded, trying not to think of the trip here, what he had condemned himself to for the rest of his life, however short that may actually be.

A glance towards the bedroom, the sounds of luggage being moved, zippers opening, and the rattle of hangers still sounding, Sachiko’s soft voice even if he couldn’t hear the words told them both that they were still occupied. Matsuda had come to stand closer, uncertain but Light paid him no mind.

“Is part of this what you see?”

“It’s – it’s – just everywhere,” he finished his voice hoarser as his fingers curled up against the armrests of the chair, fingers pulling mindless at the fabric. “I can’t not see it. The only mercy is that I don’t see the life automatically in our terms but it’s an easy conversion with practice…”

Light frowned a little, and Soichiro wondered if his son understood exactly why seeing the date of everyone’s death was unsettling. Knowing names was bad enough, and eventually, he would slip up and call someone by a name he shouldn’t know. But the day of death, a person’s expiration, was an entirely other matter to him, especially when they were young and hadn’t lived.

“You have to learn that it’s not your problem,” Light said and Soichiro bristled at Light’s tone. “Look, you can’t save everyone. A lot of it could be disease. What are you going to do for them? Walk up and tell them to go the doctor, avoid accidents?”

“I know, Light. I’m aware,” he ground out, disliking the anger he felt in the face of being able to do nothing, of how much Light sounded like Ryuk. “Doesn’t change what it feels like to me. Or that I am well aware of why the others don’t come to see me.”

Even if in their heads they justify it as being safe and giving my family time to be with me.

“He just needs more exposure,” Ryuk said and Soichiro managed to not turn his head, a skill he had been practicing when there were witnesses in the room. “Eventually, the whole newness of it will be gone. It will just be background info, like hair color or what clothes someone has.”

Somehow, he didn’t think that was the case, at least not for him but he nodded, Light rising, patting his shoulder.

Sachiko and Sayu were returning, Sayu sprawling herself out on the couch, looking actually content for a brief moment.

“We’ll be back. I told dad there will be some medical staff that will be in and out to see him. I left a list of numbers by the phone, mom, in case there are problems.”

“Thank you,” she said and Light let her hug him, less stiff for a moment.

“I’ll be back,” he said to Sayu who was looking up at him from her lounging position and Soichiro didn’t doubt for a second that she worried they were being forgotten as he pulled away from Sachiko. “We should get going. And it’s been a while for you guys, not having people wandering in and out and all that extra noise.”

He nodded and they watched Light and Matsuda go, the final click of the door that felt like he was forever losing his son even if he couldn’t explain the emotion that suddenly filled his chest and hurt.

It was so quiet, the hum of the fridge in the kitchen being the only background as they were so far up they couldn’t hear the traffic, probably helped by thick windows and the heavy drapes still drawn over them. It was unsettling after a month of hearing constant talking and whispering and footsteps along with machines beeping and working that had been around him.

“Here, let’s see if the TV’s any better,” Sayu was saying, clearly unsettled as she grabbed the remote, Soichiro was thankful for the noise and the degree of separation as this ‘gift’ would always allow him to see more. At least on a screen, the person was separated, in another space, not right in front of him.

A few minutes in, he let his eyes close, pretending to rest, unable to take anymore after the entire trip here.

Waking, it took a moment to orientate as he spent so long in the hospital that without the smells and noise, he was startled still. A small line of warmth against him and he thought it was Sachiko at first laying beside him in bed until he opened his eyes more.

It was Sayu, on top of the covers, head buried against his shoulder, fingers flexing and he knew she was crying. A moment of listening told him that Sachiko was in the shower. Gently, he stroked her hair, the blurriness wearing off more, his mind working out that Sayu had come to him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, getting a small head shake, those fingers driving into him and it broke his heart. “I’m alright.”

Sayu was curled up, almost clinging to him and he wondered what had caused this, if it was just the overall stress, if perhaps he had made noise in his sleep, if it was the new environment. Whatever it was, she was distressed. The boisterous daughter he’d had for so long was gone, had been gone these past few months and he longed to be well enough to pull her actually close, hold her properly and tell her he wouldn’t let anything else hurt her.

A dark part of him, the one buried that hated himself, chastised him for not writing that name. For still refusing to write that name.

He remembered the day she was born, that long period of silence when he thought his heart would stop because, unlike Light, she had been quiet. Then, a long piercing wail and everything had righted itself, just hearing the life in her, banishing fears of history repeating. How she had always been more lively than her brother, crying more, persistent, insistent that she needed to be by Light, and how he indulged her, always indulged her as she plotted to get him to do her chores or her homework or whatever else she thought he needed to do.

The boy was smart, he had her figured out in short order but he always pretended to fall prey to her schemes and at times managed to circle back around to get her to do it instead.

A strange little power struggle and she had been upset when Kira started, her beloved brother suddenly not a part of her life. He wondered what she or his wife would say to what he’d allowed, Light’s confinement, his suffering.

That he even still had a passing thought of Light’s innocence made him feel like he was drowning in guilt and would never get air.

“I love you,” he told Sayu, who seemed to cry harder. “None of this is your fault. It’s mine – my work –“

“No,” she got out and it was still rare to hear her speak and he was pressed into silence. “Kira. All of this is Kira and I hate him.”

Soichiro didn’t correct her. He had always taught his children about hate, about the suffocating nature of it but this was understandable and there were so many things he wished he had done differently. All of his choices, if any of them were right because it felt like swimming in sand, they were never any closer to anything. The only time was when L had taken his son and they had no killings for two weeks until Higuchi seemed to start and –

No, it means nothing. Even L had nothing to go on and I can see Light’s lifespan. That Shinigami told me how this works. I can’t see mine in the mirror, marking me as an owner still and I can give it back to this thing but lose everything in the process. And then what will any of this have been for? Mello may have lost the book but he’s still alive. The astounding means they went through to save me when my life is already half-forfeit and I wouldn’t even know why having made that sacrifice meaningless.

There are still possibilities with this ‘gift’.  And Mello lost his way to kill me on a whim, regardless if he has called a cease-fire or is trying to control me.

“He’ll be caught,” he told his daughter finally, hearing the water stop for the shower and knowing that Sachiko would come and help comfort Sayu. He was poor at this.

There seemed to be something she wanted to say and he waited, letting her calm against him. It had been so long since he had held her at all, at least peacefully. Their flight from the kidnappers was another matter and he wished someone else had been able to make a choice for him since he could not make the right one. As bad as it was that Mello got the book, he could never condemn her to die in that place, alone and terrified.

Maybe, we could have used what we had to grant her something peaceful –

He immediately cut those thoughts off.

“Kira’s nothing but a glorified murderer,” Sayu told him and Soichiro agreed.

That was all he was. All the cult following, the people begging for his rule, did not see that Kira would easily turn on them as he would on those criminals. Eventually, the ‘bad’ people would be gone and the crimes punished would be less severe.

And the corruption at the heart of humanity would always remain, no matter how in fear the population was, there were far more than convicted murderers and rapists that spread despair in this world. The millions of children who were forced to work in mines and fields, and beaten when they collapsed were a testament to this. Kira may cause terror, but he had limitations, and could only punish those he knew the names of. Horrific crimes were often hidden in plain sight, a world complacent because they needed what was gained.

Fear sets no one free, he thought as Sachiko appeared at the door, wrapped in her robe with her hair swept up in a towel.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Sorry, I just –“

“It’s alright, Sayu. Everything is alright.”

She calmed, her mother with them now, perched on the side of the bed and he couldn’t get rid of his worry, ashamed that his daughter lived with so much fear.

Chapter Text

“Papa.”

Soichiro sighed, refraining from letting out a curse under his breath as his stiff muscles refused to fully cooperate with him today. His left leg would always be this way, unwieldy and not near fully functional, the physical therapist having been here this morning to help get him closer to walking without so much residual pain.

Right now he needed more than the cane but he didn’t particularly want that. It felt like going backward.

Sayu’s steps were still small, her own form thin and easily fatigued from her period of shock but she was here. And with her was his walker that she placed firmly in front of him, eyes defiant.

He hated the damn thing.

“It’s not forever,” Sachiko had told him. “And so what if it was? You are alive and can still walk. Millions use one daily. It is not a verdict that you are not enough.”

His leg was trembling and he reached out with his free hand to steady himself, Sayu directing him wordless to what she had brought.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, instantly regretting his tone but she merely stepped forward more, blocking his path to the point he had no hope of getting around her.

“Stubborn,” she chided and he marveled at her sass. “I’ll get mom.”

That was what he didn’t need and he sighed again, letting her take his cane so his other hand would be free to take this cursed thing.

He swore he heard Ryuk snickering in the corner but he refused to acknowledge the Shinigami. He didn’t need any more salt in the wound.

Sayu, at least, was pleased, displaying the self-satisfaction of a cat lounging with a stolen meal, and he shuffled in the direction he had wanted to go. The weather had gotten colder here, a winter storm, and he had been warned pain may be worse during these times, the therapist telling him that many of his patients did the best in the summer.

Not that it left him looking forward to winter when he finally made it back home. It had been weeks in the states and he was ready to not be here, everything strange and disorientating and a constant barrage of English.

Sachiko struggled the most, having never learned much of the language and he wanted her somewhere that was more comfortable.

“I’m alright,” he told his daughter who was walking beside him. “Just stiff. Been sitting too long.”

She sighed but she did leave him. A glance told him she was placing his cane where he could reach it from the chair he normally sat in.

“Good,” Sachiko said having arrived from where ever she had been. “You are too stubborn for your own good.”

“I’m surprised you let me walk at all.”

“As if we could stop you,” she returned, crossing her arms. “People use these all the time.”

I didn’t use it all the time.

Deciding there was no good answer to give, he stayed silent, hating how old he felt, as though his life was already over. And in some ways, it was over. Even in retirement, he had been able to be useful. Now, with this, he couldn’t even be that as he got himself into the bathroom, locking them out for a few minutes.

The man he saw in the mirror was paler, and thinner, with a scar down his left cheek that was still fading.

“You were lucky that nothing you couldn’t live without was damaged beyond repair,” the doctor had told him when he had begun to process the world better after waking up.

He had woken up with less than he started with, his left kidney gone and he touched his side, thinking of what would have happened if he had lost both. Or if the shots hadn’t been as wild as they were from a man laying on the ground and deflected by his flak vest to an extent.

Not that he hadn’t ended up with fragments of those rounds in places they shouldn’t be, his lung the most delicate, the long surgical scar he had still pinkish when he looked at it after showering and it was rare he ever did.

It did no good to dwell and he did what he came in here to do, his daughter even more focused on him drinking things than his wife.

Ryuk appeared as he was washing his hands, forever in his constant state of amusement.

“They’re adorable,” he said and Soichiro glowered. “Relax. I’ll keep telling you the same thing – even if I had my book I wouldn’t kill them as I have no reason to. We aren’t like you guys.”

Fears of one of them, namely Sayu, listening at the door, kept him silent as he dried his hands. Not that it would do any good to speak. Ryuk and he went around in circles and it was better to just focus on things that had no meaning as Ryuk refused to tell him anything useful outside of ownership rules or carefully answering questions in vague ways about how the book operated.

“That’s not how it works,” Ryuk always told him, laughing. “I’m not an information service. It’s up to you to figure it out.”

He had learned that once a name was written it could never be undone, even if the page was burned. Anything on those pages was final and they made sure the book was secured at all times.

No one should die by this thing, no matter what type of death is offered.

As he made his way back out he found Sayu placing a cup of tea by his chair and she smiled at him, something he was seeing more of daily.

She focuses on me. At least, there is that, and I hope it helps her.

Resettled, he tried to find something to watch, feeling too tired to read, and most on offer was in English, books in their language harder to come by here though they had found some. Mogi had dropped off a small collection he had found from somewhere, a used book store Soichiro thought it was, and it was appreciated as Sayu settled on the couch, looking at a magazine that had appeared from somewhere.

He knew Ryuk was still amused as he flipped channels, hoping to at least keep the Shinigami occupied. Ryuk’s commentary over some of the shows had helped some in the quiet of the hospital, especially in the time before they had arrived.

Her hands had undone half his buttons in the dark before his mind processed what she was after, her mouth on his.

“Sachiko,” he whispered, afraid as she got the rest of his shirt open, her warm hand flat against his belly. “I may not be well enough –“

“I asked.”

In the darkness of their bedroom, he could make out the glint of her eyes catching on ambient light from somewhere, perhaps the little night light plugged into the bathroom. She was amused, then busy, trailing down his jaw with her mouth.

“My doctor?”

She paused and he knew she was smiling, trying not to say anything as he mentally reprimanded himself.

Who else is there? It’s not as though she would ask the janitor if I can make love to her or not.

Not that it alleviated much in him given his pain, the way he still had difficulty moving. There wasn’t a way for him to do this in the way she was used to as she shifted again, straddling his hips, her warmth its own blanket as he let out a small huff.

His fingers slipped under the hem of her nightshirt, her too-hot skin soft and pliant under his palms as she kissed him again more urgently, pushed against him and he kept back a sound.

In a smooth motion, he freed her from her top, tossing it beside them on the bed, his hand going up to cup her breast, the taste of her in his mouth.

His mind went to Ryuk and he froze, rigid for a moment before he could catch himself as she drew back slightly.

“Soichiro?”

There didn’t seem to be a sign of the Shinigami in the room but he could just be one room over. And his hearing, Ryuk could easily listen if not anything else. Light and Matsuda both snuck things up to the roof when they came, stashes to keep the creature occupied and less prone to complain or get into trouble, but –

Could he hear from there? Would he know? I can’t – she doesn’t know we’re being watched, that I’m haunted, what I’ve done –“

“What’s wrong?” she whispered to him and all the desire he had for her had fled, wanting to cover her, keep her from the unseen eyes his mind made him think were everywhere.

She needs me to do this. I need to work out how to do this. Even Ryuk has told me he has no interest in these activities.

It had been mentioned in passing, but Soichiro had taken it for what it probably was – that human intimacy wasn’t a thing the creature had an interest in. And, it most likely had seen it a lot in its long existence of watching humans as it stated Shinigamis did.

He thought of her bathing him in the hospital bed, Ryuk having gone somewhere else, Sayu a good ways away from the drawn curtain that encircled them while he tried not to watch her work. Everything in him hadn’t wanted anyone else to touch him, but he couldn’t stand that she had to do that for him, still helped him, her fingertips tracing the long wounds, his bruising as it slowly faded going dark to mark his failures before they lightened and dissipated.

“I still want you,” she told him, voice quiet, her face close to his. “We don’t have to, but I still want you.”

She needed him to do this, and he couldn’t tell her the truth of why he hesitated as he pulled the covers up farther to shield them before slipping a hand in her hair, bringing her closer. Breathing in the scent of her skin, missing the honeysuckle she always wore at home, he kissed her, feeling her hands like comfort as he pushed everything from his mind that he couldn’t think of.

I have to tell her and I can’t.

Her mouth trailed kisses down his neck, the warmth of her chasing away the constant chill that plagued him daily now.

She needed and he gave to her, holding back the sensation that he was lower than he’d ever been.

“I worry for you, Soichiro Yagami. You may need to take down your own child before he kills you first.”

Light had brought over some photos and he wrote down the names he saw, trying to chase away memories of L that grew more strident in his mind each day. Two of the men he was shown were already dead, but otherwise, the rest he could identify.

They sat beside the small desk with the half-wall partition, their voices soft as his wife and daughter watched TV, not questioning if this even needed to be done now.

They were used to his work at this point in life.

“What does it feel like?”

“To see this?” Soichiro asked, getting a nod. “Strange. Invasive. It’s gotten closer to normal, I’ve learned to ignore it better but even looking at a TV –“ he shuddered a little. Seeing a throng on TV and their overlapping names and lives, a big blur of language that shouldn’t be available, and was overwhelming. Even just sitcoms had lost their allure of pointless banter, the commercials filled with secrets he shouldn’t be privy to. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, it will always be right there.”

“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” Light said and Soichiro quietly agreed.

It was his own choices, after all, that got him here and he worried after how much life he still had. Of how he would die because he didn’t want it to be in front of his wife and daughter. He had considered asking Ryuk for help in the matter but not knowing his allegiance, he didn’t want to seem like he was asking for an early death.

How driven he was, how focused on his own mortality he had become, unnerved him, just as his own disregard for his life before the raid did. Neither state was good. He hadn’t been aware of just how close to suicidal he had been.

“Thanks, dad, this helps a lot,” Light told him, rising and Soichiro couldn’t help but stare at the life above his head. “What?”

“Nothing. Just trying to get used to it.”

“Probably don’t want to stare quite so much.” Light’s words had a bite to them even if polite.

“You are my son,” Soichiro replied, voice even. “It’s a bit different.”

“True.” Light’s eyes drifted away to something else, uncomfortable and Soichiro was uncertain if it was over the display of affection or his power. “At least we’ll be home in a day.”

“I look forward to not living in a hotel.”

Light offered a small smile before leaving and Soichiro noticed that he didn’t spend much time with his mother or sister either. It was simply work – come in, do what he was there to do, and leave. No small talk, no idle chatter. He understood Light was busy, and probably had far more than Soichiro was aware of right now but it still hurt in a nameless way he couldn’t fully pinpoint as he stood.

“I’m going to take a nap,” he told Sachiko who nodded and he waved her away when she started to get up. “I’ll be alright. Should practice by myself.”

He knew it irritated her, no matter the truth to his words as he went, cane in hand, and shuffled into the bedroom. Their lodgings still unnerved him. It wasn’t just not seeing the bills that made him uneasy, wondering if a landslide was coming as Ryuk followed him.

Soichiro closed the door, feeling more at ease without having eyes on him all the time as if he was about to break as he eased himself onto the bed. Pointing at the top drawer of the small bedside dresser, Ryuk brightened and opened it, finding the apple Soichiro had secreted away earlier for him.

“Humans can’t see a Death Note owner's lifespan, correct?” he asked, keeping his voice whisper-soft as Ryuk started eating, giving him a passing nod. “It’s how one with the eyes can see who owns one.”

“Yeah, how it works. Why it works that way, don’t know. Some have a theory that a Death Note is chaotic and the user may die at any time.”

“And no one can tell if I have your eyes no matter what?”

“Yep,” Ryuk answered around a mouthful of apple. “No tests will ever show it. Not even another Shinigami will know unless they are told or watched from our realm and witness the deal, barring something really unusual like the user being blind originally.”

Ryuk had already informed him that he could not tell the life, the name, or the location of any human on earth, even to that human who owned these things. Soichiro had thought about trying to wheedle out a little clue, to know if he had hours, days, perhaps even a year or two but made himself not push. Given he’d already had a heart attack in his late forties and then had been ruthlessly shot after years of stress, he could not see a long life, to begin with, and then it had been shortened more.

It would do little good to become overly focused on changing or dwelling on what could not be.

Getting himself in bed, he was grateful Ryuk always made short work of his apples because Sachiko would be along in a few minutes to check on him.

He could ask Ryuk about the rules on the back cover of the one they had retrieved all those years ago after Higuchi’s death but it felt too dangerous. That Ryuk, however trapped here the Shinigami appeared to be, would find a way to communicate that he knew.

Know? Know what exactly? If there is truth to Mello’s comment, which I doubt, then who would it be compromising?

He didn’t like the sole answer to that as he made himself as comfortable as possible, his body still aching and he knew he would never be the same. It was sheer luck he had survived as well as he had, his organs healing from shrapnel but not failing and he let his eyes drift closed.

Exhaustion was ever prevalent now and it may not ever leave him.

It felt like L was haunting him and he swallowed.

Light still has a lifespan. He can’t be Kira because of this.

Soichiro’s eyes snapped open, remembering something Kira had told them when Ryuk had arrived with the book. That he was giving them his killing method. If Kira had surrendered the book back to Ryuk in order to send them after Mello then – then –

No, it’s just old paranoia. That’s all it is. There was never comprehensive evidence of anything. With this logic, anyone close to the investigation becomes suspect, which is probably what Mello is hoping for. Wouldn’t Light have had his memories stripped as well if he did this, surrendered the book for my use? Ryuk told me I would lose mine if I revoked it, wouldn’t it be the same for Kira? Kira couldn’t possibly want that, nor did he show any signs of that happening when we spoke. Is there another loophole I don’t know about?

He had been told another Shinigami had taken the book Mello had stolen. Perhaps that was what went back to Kira as the killings continued and he tried not to wonder why Shinigamis would be helping Kira. If it was idle curiosity, a spell, force, or something he hadn’t thought of. He had come close to asking Ryuk if the pages themselves could be removed and used in the same manner. If that was the case, it may also explain how Kira accomplished what he was – he still had a killing method and it was a stay of execution.

He worried he would be contacted by Kira, offered work in exchange for his continued existence, or that of his family.

His mind kept circling around that perhaps Kira had loaned the book but Light – it would still be ownership, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t he still be the defacto owner and thus obscure his lifespan?

Looking at Ryuk, his mouth went dry, and he couldn’t ask. Closing his eyes, he listened as Sachiko came to check on him, forever unaware of the shadow of death at his side.

Chapter Text

Finally, an answer had come to the financials as they all waited to board but it was not one that provided much comfort.

Near.

Why Near had felt compelled to step in, he couldn’t say but he felt a strange mix of gratitude and anger. Near had been the one to provide them cover, especially during his hospital stay and it had been Near, showing the same abandon with money that L had, that had put up his family in what amounted to a luxury apartment disguised as a hotel. There may have been compromises made he wasn’t aware of, information shared and he worried about what his men or what Light had felt was necessary to get them home as an attendant came and told them everything was ready.

Sayu and Sachiko were brought aboard first, the rest of them following.  Apparently, from what he’d learned, Near had planned to fly him, his wife, and daughter back but then felt that the rest would be too uneasy letting Near have so much potential access to them. Or, more succinctly, him. Near had arranged for all of them to return to Japan together, the rest having chased leads and information during his recovery.

It was nice, smaller than he was used to as he was helped into a seat that was set in rows of two each set of four facing each other, Sachiko sitting next to him and Sayu directly across. Matsuda, who had been doting on her was there and, at first, Soichiro had almost put a stop to it. But it was kindness, no underlying motives, and seeing the dark marks under Matsuda’s eyes, he felt they both needed kindness. And as flustered as Sayu got, she seemed to respond well to Matsuda.

“It’s alright,” he told the detective and Matsuda hesitantly took a seat next to Sayu, Light already sitting elsewhere.

Everyone was present, the doors closing and they were going home. Even Ryuk, unseen by some here, was in the back, eyeing everything with amusement.

Light was in a seat across and facing him, his seat even with Matsuda’s with papers on his lap, coat in the empty seat beside him, and Soichiro offered a small smile to him as the plane began to taxi. Misa would be glad to get him back, even if he could never understand their relationship. She was such a strange woman and he had worried in the early months, about the obsession she carried for Light. How they met was so unusual as it had been –

Soichiro felt cold as the engines spun up for takeoff.

“I knew his name. I don’t remember how. When I saw him in Aoyama.”

Swallowing, nausea turning into bile creeping up his throat, he couldn’t take his eyes off of Light, name, and life forever on display to eyes like his.

Ukita had died suddenly when he went to Sakura TV that night, the second Kira never needing a name to do their killing. Even L thought that.

“I swear, dad, I never saw her before she turned up at the house that night.”

“Why did you take her upstairs then?”

“I – I don’t know. She was nice. That’s all. I didn’t know he’d find evidence she was the second Kira.”

Death Note owners don’t have a life span when seen by those with Shinigami eyes, forever marking them.

“There is forensic evidence that links Misa Amane to the tapes sent to the studio. She just suddenly appeared in Light’s life after he went to Aoyama to find one of the Kira’s, supported by your own family’s unwitting statements. What conclusions do you expect me to draw, Yagami-san, that are not damaging to your son?”

It was old suspicion that was long since gone –

“Yes, you can lose your memories, along with your eyes and your already sacrificed life if you revoke the book.”

“Will I ever be at risk of regaining my memory?”

“Only if you touch a Death Note. And you have to get ownership to not need constant contact.”

L had thought memory loss and Light had been with L that night when they cornered Higuchi, the book handed to them in the helicopter and then the man had suddenly died –

“You will receive something in the next few days that will prove that I am the real Kira – my notebook.”

There was more than one book and one owner. The encounter with Mello had proved that much. The thirteen days, was there an actual loophole to all of this –

The back of death’s rules are lies to you.

The experiment, the mock execution, Higuchi had proven that even he had to write a name after gaining these eyes so it was meaningless, what L had put them through. And Misa, she had gotten Higuchi to confess, had targeted him and him alone after meeting those board members –

But Light has a life span, I can see his life span…But he would have known there was a high possibility that he would be seen by whoever had made the deal, he plans, he has always planned –

“Dad?”

Light’s voice was far more distant than it should have been and he saw something move across from him. Drawing back, afraid momentarily, he saw it was Matsuda having unbuckled himself, holding steady as he put a bag against Soichiro’s mouth despite the loud protests of the flight crew as the plane lifted off.

Soichiro’s stomach ended up in it.

Embarrassed, eyes looking up, he was grateful that Matsuda, holding onto the overhead bin as the plane continued its sharp ascent, blocked his view of Light.

“Dear, are you alright?” Sachiko asked, looking worried.

“Yes. Just the drugs, most likely,” he said, the bitter taste of bile in his mouth. “I’m fine.”

He was the furthest from fine he had ever been but he willed himself to hold together. All he had was conjecture and this was his son, the man sitting as the current L and involved in Japanese Intelligence. There was nothing concrete and he tried to tell himself that he was wrong, no matter how his hands shook.

Light was displeased with his decision to have Matsuda drive them home.

“You have been away from Misa long enough,” he said, keeping his voice even. “And it is a long drive. He is more than capable of doing it.”

The tightness in Light’s face gave away his anger but he otherwise quietly acquiesced. Soichiro didn’t miss the look Light gave Matsuda when Sayu was helped into the car. It was still a better answer than the truth, that his own child disturbed him right now and he wanted to be far away.

Turning, he spied that the others most definitely were avoiding him and Soichiro sighed. The other three seemed apprehensive as he walked closer with his cane in full use, stiff from sitting so long.

It had already been a complicated dance to keep his eyes to himself for the flight home.

“Don’t want to know,” Aizawa just blurted out and Ide elbowed him.

Soichiro wondered after the amount of restraint the man had shown at the airport not to start with this there, most likely curbed by his family’s presence alone.

“What he means is that unless we need to get a will together in the next day or so, please don’t tell us.”

“I understand,” Soichiro answered, barely managing to not smile as he felt that would upset them. “No one is dying soon.”

Their relief was palatable.

“Chief,” Aizawa said, stepping forward and dropping his voice, “that creature.”

“I know. But it’s been around them all this time and as long as I still see what I shouldn’t, it has to remain. I also have no want to send the notebook back to Kira.”

“Agreed. Just – if you need something –“

“You’ll send poor Matsuda,” Soichiro finished, appreciating the flush to them. “I know. I’m not dead. I expect to be kept up-to-date.”

There was quiet before Aizawa agreed and he turned, going back to the car. He found the front seat had been reserved for him and he sat, grateful he could stretch out his legs here as his wife and daughter watched.

What was relatively sweet was the nervousness Matsuda displayed when he got in, starting the car.

“You’ll be fine,” he told the man, Matsuda flushing. “I’m sure you won’t kill us.”

Matsuda started then gave him a glare before correcting himself, Soichiro was unable to help a small smirk as Matsuda backed up and began the long drive home.

He made a mental note to tell the man to take advantage of a therapist for an officer-involved shooting. It was an easier thing to muse over, along with grocery needs, and maintenance, if bills were past due because of his extended absence. All of it was more welcoming because otherwise, his thoughts kept circling that Misa knew Light’s name because she was the second Kira – the one that killed Ukita.

And that Light knew this because he was the first.

Swallowing, whatever small joy he had gone, he turned his gaze out the window to the rapidly darkening day with a part of him wishing that he had died trying to apprehend Mello in ignorance. Because all his thoughts kept circling to one horrible question:

If he had used the book and the rules were fake, if his son was guilty, would Light have killed him in thirteen days to preserve his secret?

He honestly didn’t know and it bothered him far more deeply than he ever thought it would.

While before he had been uncertain how well he would adjust to living away from the city, he was grateful he had made the choice now. It was typically just them in this small area and he didn’t have to worry about seeing people outside on the sidewalk and view if they would make it to tomorrow or not. Sachiko handled the shopping, he still couldn’t walk long distances, but he liked to sit outside, and stare up into the trees, Ryuk trying to find ways to occupy himself that wouldn’t give away his presence.

Sachiko was already starting to wonder after his apple habit to the frustration of Ryuk.

The quiet, though, the lack of distractions and ringing phones, and just mounds of evidence demanding he shift through it made his thoughts rampage. And unfortunately, the more he concentrated, the more clarity he gained. Being away from Light, truly away from him and all his words and reasons and excuses, some things were becoming more clear. One of them was that Mello had not been wrong, that Light as L had seemed to build up Kira’s success instead of shaking it down.

He was well aware of what his son could do when he set his mind to it, and it bothered him that Light had done so little. It felt that they were being led in circles and that would make sense if Light was trying to protect himself.

L had said that if he died when he did that Light was most definitely Kira. They just didn’t think about it because it had been that Shinigami who killed L, not Kira. Or, rather, that was what they thought. He never had a satisfying answer as to why it would do that and then. The only thing that had changed was that the killings had restarted and –

L wanted to test those rules. If he had tested them and found them false, then all the lies Light had built up would be gone. He’d have no foundation, no way to prove himself innocent. And Light knew I would never go that far.

Each day felt like a piece of him was being carved away as he became more resigned to who Light could possibly be. It should never be something he accepted, but he felt it was the only plausible answer.

He wished L hadn’t wiped his database given that he probably knew far more than he ever shared. Soichiro dearly wished the man was still alive because he would have someone to talk to. L would have been thrilled by what they had learned, but he doubted L would be happy over the costs, no matter how distant he tried to appear.

There was Near, but Soichiro was uncertain how much to trust Near. Especially after Mello. Both may be unhinged and he stared up at the sky feeling alone, more than he had ever been.

One thing was certain – he couldn’t trust Ryuk. All he could do was keep him happy which was surprisingly easy. He wondered how many Shinigamis there were in total as he saw Matsuda driving up, knowing there were apples in the trunk.

L, did you know gods of death like apples?

That his son had used the notes of men imprisoned, ones they were forced to write before they died, to taunt the person trying to apprehend him made Soichiro almost vomit again as he watched Matsuda get out, raising a hand in greeting. What he needed was evidence, understanding finally how L felt all those months – feeling as if the truth was staring at him in the face but no way to be sure.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, rubbing his face, his glasses on the nightstand beside the bed.

The same glasses that he’d had redone prescription-wise as he recovered because his vision had changed, his specialist telling him that sometimes, changes occurred they just didn’t understand and this was one to be thankful over.

But I know the reason why it changed.

Sachiko was beside him, fingers on his cheek and he couldn’t look over.

“Are you in pain?”

“No more than usual,” he said. “I’m just overly tired, that’s all.”

“You were always a poor liar with me.”

Because I never want to lie to you.

Making himself look at her, worried and wondering if she would have to weather another storm soon, that he had kept things from her.

Her name and life were forever on display to him, a taunt over all his sins she had yet to know.

Any time he had kept the truth from her, it had always ended poorly, including with him being injured. As he was now a good example of that as she moved closer, hand cupping his cheek.

“Something’s been bothering you for a while.”

“It’s just a large adjustment,” he tried, waving his hand towards his leg, his night clothes hiding all the scars he had recently collected adding to the old.

“I know you aren’t used to it. It will get better.”

He nodded, trying to show he believed that, that there wasn’t a growing fear in him that their entire world would be torn apart. That he wished it was just his injuries, that his lack of use was the only thing driving his stress.

“You can tell me these things,” she told him, voice soft. “You can tell me anything.”

He knew at that moment that she didn’t all the way believe him and he nodded as she leaned forward, pressing her face against him.

They were quiet as he put his arm around her, palm against her back, feeling her warmth, wanting to be insane over finally seeing what was in front of him.

If any good was to come from all of this, it was Sayu becoming closer to herself.

She would never be the same, none of them would be, Sachiko herself having nightmares, sometimes crying alone that she quickly hid if discovered, made up a story over and Soichiro let her, remembering how poorly he had originally handled another loss years ago when they were young and he still had hope.

But Sayu was speaking more, interacting more, even if to his eternal frustration it was to take care of him. She shouldn’t need to do that, and it upset him that his daughter felt she needed to provide him with anything.

That caring for him put life back in her and made him swallow down his discontent.

Matsuda was the one who came to see them still, Light barely a voice during short calls, dodging coming home. Sachiko upset over their son but trying not to let it show.

“I know he is busy,” she said the other day. “Though he could at least be bothered to talk to you for a few extra minutes.”

Why Light was behaving like this was something Soichiro did not want to address.

Matsuda was at the door, shuffling off his coat, a small box with him. Sayu enjoyed seeing him, and he was still kind to her. Each time he came, he brought her something different from a bakery he liked.

I didn’t even know he had a bakery he liked.

It reminded him of when she was little and he often worked later than he wanted to. They’d wanted to have family meals out, but often he was stuck stopping and bringing the meal to them as by the time they went and came back, it would be past the children’s bedtimes. Sayu had always wanted something new from the menu of the place he had gone to for most of her early years.

Perhaps out of guilt or out of love he had spoiled her and allowed it. She had eaten everything he ever brought her.

His chest was tight as he watched her open the little box Matsuda had brought her, smiling.

And when he was done looking at whatever they wanted him to look at Matsuda would be flustered and convinced to stay to eat. In many ways, it was his own fault as he had invited the man into his home when he was just starting, knowing that Matsuda was alone in the world even if his family still lived.

Sayu had gone to show her mother what she’d been given, the two often sharing it, and Matsuda walked over to him. Even if reception wasn’t so poor here, what he was brought wouldn’t be sent through email. Kira had proven years ago that he’d had access to secure police files, it would do no good to help further that.

Because Light has access to those files.

The idea that his son had abused his trust at the start, collected the information he shared, and maybe even used his computer since Light had the skills to break the security made him nauseous. Memories of the day L had proclaimed Kira had access to sensitive police information vivid in his head, circling, even if it was years back. The internal betrayal he had felt over both the unspoken accusation from L and the idea that one of their own was involved had been violent and intense, driving it into unforgettable detail in his mind.

“You alright?” Matsuda whispered, voice low because they both knew the other two would be here if he didn’t.

“Just tired,” Soichiro lied, glancing over at Ryuk who was lounging in a chair.

It was in a way true. These thoughts kept him awake as Sachiko slept beside him.

“Just a couple today.”

Soichiro nodded as they went into the small room that served as a study and he settled himself into his desk chair. A tiny room, perhaps meant to be a nursery at one time with two thin windows and room enough for a desk and two chairs. Confined and secure, he felt safer here though that may come from the illusion of solitude, the door closed keeping away curious eyes to some extent.

“Still nothing useful?”

Matsuda made a frustrated noise, and he was much freer to be open. “Same story we get from all of them. Mello was ruthless and violent, used whatever he could against them, but no one knows where he could be hiding.”

Especially with his injuries.

At any time, he could ask for the book, simply state that he remembered everything clearly but he felt that his men wouldn’t let him write Mello’s name now. It had been different, what they had been facing on the raid, Mello still with ownership of another of these things and a direct threat.

Now, that ownership was gone and Mello more likely than not heavily wounded, curled up somewhere licking his wounds. No, they wouldn’t let him do it now – there would be arguments, and they would refuse him.

He had met men like Mello before, though the extreme shown was rare. It all ended up the same way, destruction, and death, they took out themselves after trying to make the world bow to acknowledge their hubris.

It was only a handful of photos and Soichiro appreciated it, hating how he saw the world now and long ago running out of excuses to get out of watching TV with his family. Though Sayu was amused that he had grown an affinity for animated shows, indulging him when she wanted to spend time with him.

At least those didn’t have the constant reminder that all life ends, or that even children die.

Reading and sitting outside had become his hobbies of choice as he gave everything back to Matsuda who put it in the envelope he’d brought and they stood.

“I’m sure you know you’re already staying for lunch.”

Matusda flushed, clearing his throat. “That’s why I always make sure I leave early to get here.”

“You can always tell them no,” Soichiro started then let out a small laugh at the face he got. “They do know you’re busy. We just don’t have many visitors.”

“I know. I –“ Matsuda cut himself off, rubbing the back of his neck and Soichiro leaned a bit more on his cane.

“You tell my son he should come himself, don’t you?”

“Every time.”

“And I’m sure he tells you he’s too busy, that he can’t risk being away since he has to fill an extra role.”

“Yes.” Matsuda’s eyes were down as he shifted on his feet, clearly deeply uncomfortable. “I know he has a point, but even L wasn’t always contactable.”

“I know. It’s not your fault. It’s kind of you to humor them.”

“I like coming here.” Matsuda flushed again. “They’re very kind to me.”

Soichiro smiled, directing the man a little so he would stop embarrassing himself. Once out, Matsuda was ensnared by Sayu who was asking about gossip and news and anything else she could think of, her eyes brighter and brighter with each passing day.

When he left, Matsuda would leave apples for Ryuk because he couldn’t find a way to feasibly request more when Sachiko went shopping, the Shinigami was upset that he had to eat them outside but happy they were there.

One day he would have to come to terms with what was actually going on and he made his mind blank, seating himself at the kitchen table as his wife served tea.

Chapter Text

Ryuk was watching him and Soichiro was uncomfortable, wondering how much longer he would be left alive. They had no pictures of Misa here and her ads didn’t run on TV anymore given that she had halted her career. It was only a matter of time before he saw her in some way and the truth was revealed, Light always side-stepping his mother’s offers to have him and Amane over for dinner.

She had done movies but they never played, at least on the channels they had.

“It’s not a good time, I barely have time to think myself,” Light had replied on his last phone call in response to Sachiko wanting him to come home.

Does he know? Does he realize that I put it together? Is my only reprieve that he has some vestige of love for me and struggles to write my name down or is he hoping I will be swayed?

“What’s wrong, So-chi?” Ryuk asked him as he sat, bundled up against the cold, and looked out at the trees.

“Hmm?”

“You’ve been pensive. Are you worried about the deal?”

“Yes,” he said, careful to keep his voice very low and his answers vague.

“Or are you worried that I will just kill you?”

“Both,” he allowed, not looking over, knowing Ryuk was standing slightly behind him, his lumbering form hunched over in his mind.

“I won’t kill you,” Ryuk said and Soichiro stopped himself from turning, hands tight on the armrests of his chair. “I follow the book. Nothing more or less.”

“You watch.”

“Yeah, I watch. I’m not involved past that.”

“You brought it.” He shouldn’t have said anything, wincing slightly as Ryuk let out a low chuckle.

“I did do that. But still, not killing anyone.”

Soichiro didn’t answer, his mind going over things he rarely allowed himself to think on, things that had been years ago when L was alive. When L had asked him to set up the mock execution of his own son, another thing Soichiro would never forgive himself for and even less so given it proved nothing in the end, L had explained he felt Light had known about the cameras. L had believed everything they had watched was a show, that those minor criminals – if they were even criminals at all – had died because it was all Light had access to.

If Ryuk helped him, it would make sense that Light would know to not do anything that wasn’t planned.

His stomach twisted, the note he had dashed off early in the morning while locked in the bathroom heavy in his pocket as he waited for Matsuda to come. More pictures, new leads supposedly, and all he wanted was to scream, ask Light to just stop.

The sound of the car and he got himself up, his left leg aching from the chill and his uneven sleep and he leaned heavily on his cane. He knew Matsuda would leave an apple for Ryuk on the blind side of the house on his way around and so did Ryuk who went eagerly.

Did his son bribe this creature to do what he wanted?

“Hello, Chief,” Matsuda greeted, his face tired and the dark marks under his eyes were barely better even with his smile.

Looking at Ryuk’s form slipping around the corner, Soichiro slid the note into Matsuda’s pocket, mouthing later, and got a nod, the worry increasing further.

Such a small piece of paper. It felt like to condemn Light, it needed to be more, to be everything, not a few words about Mello’s note, of Misa finding Light, of the strange little things that never made sense. It should take more than just those few shapes on a page spelling something like that out to go against his child.

“Let’s see what you’ve brought me,” he told Matsuda, keeping his voice neutral and his face flat.

“If I pull out a page and give it to someone, would they be able to use it?”

Ryuk shrugged. “As far as I know. Each part works the same whether attached or separate.”

“Even a scrap?”

There was a long look from the Shinigami as if trying to gauge just where these questions were coming from.

“Even a scrap,” Ryuk echoed then smiled, laughing a little. “You’re always so serious, So-chi.”

“Personality flaw,” Soichiro murmured, staring off into the trees as the wind blew colder.

It was late and all he wanted was his wife.

She was beside him, kissing him in the low light of the room, her warmth, her small hands on him, and he drew her closer.

All of her, he knew all of her, and every time they made love he thought of their lives together. Of the first time, when in his youth he had nearly spoiled everything by seeing her naked and under him. His hands ran over her, remembering how she had been when Light and Sayu had been ready to come – full and round, her eyes happy despite her painful ankles and slow movements. Of her swollen breasts, what they had tasted like because she had wanted to be pleased during their infancy and enjoyed watching him and he had secretly enjoyed sharing it with her. Of the feeling of her warmth, being lost in her and she brushed his cheeks now.

I’ve lied to you, am lying to you, I’ve let a monster into our house and I believe I helped shape another.

Shaking his head, he let his hands flow over her. He had stopped trying to hold back his thoughts of everything and it showed.

“I love you,” he whispered to her and he let her think his state was due to all the other things and not what had happened to Light.

She was beautiful, this woman he had never deserved, and he didn’t know if she would hate him if she knew the depths of his failures, desperate for her to never find out, for his own mind to be broken over being right.

You will never forgive me.

It had been stunning that Light himself had come this time. And, Soichiro mused, a sign that his son was anxious as they sat off in a room made into an office and he wrote what he saw, wondering if Light would go home and use what he gave him to kill these men.

Am I assisting in murder or in an investigation? If I ask him what he is going to actually do, ask if the others know about what he’s brought me, or if this was done in secrecy, would my name be added to the list? If I die now, they may not think anything of it. My injuries, what’s happened, it could just be considered natural stress. He could even get Ryuk to echo that sentiment –

“What’s wrong?”

Light’s voice drew him back into this moment and Soichiro realized he had been sitting, pen in hand but not writing, gazing at the photos of men who most likely were to die soon.

“Tired,” he said, keeping it simple, his voice flat.

Matsuda at least brought the relief that the rest probably knew about the visit, and would know if these people disappeared during the investigation or died on their feet. Matsuda brought that kind of ease, along with small offerings to both his wife and daughter. Light had come empty-handed, coat wet from the driving rain that had besieged him on just the short walk from the car, voice clipped about being short on time, Sachiko’s joy over seeing him fading quickly.

Sayu didn’t even know he was here.

But he may be getting Matsuda to help him, be misleading him. There is always that. I may always have been unwittingly helping to kill people instead of providing names to speed up the investigation into Mello, Near, and Kira.

“Something’s been bothering you for a while.”

It was soft, that statement, but Soichiro felt like it was prying. Light studied him from his chair a few feet away, stiff as though he was on display, a model of what a policeman ought to be instead of his son at home.

This was never his home. We’re selling that house. I wonder if he’s upset over that, even if he’s never shown any propensity for affinity over it. He didn’t even want anything from his old room. Sachiko was the one who went through his things before we had them packed to make sure anything he may regret leaving behind could be found.

“It’s just a lot, Light. Everything, seeing as I do.” He finished, putting the papers into the envelope they had been brought in with, Light having sheltered them under his coat. “Sayu is still recovering. It’s a large transition –“

“I don’t know why you moved.”

Soichiro leaned back, watching his son, surprised by that small outburst.

Maybe it bothers him more than he ever let on and it wasn’t about not wanting things but throwing a fit, like if he didn’t participate it wouldn’t happen.

“We wanted quiet for your sister, where we wouldn’t constantly have to worry about everyone walking by on the street or worse, the papers finding out something about what she went through. She didn’t feel safe, all the noise, the ideas that anyone driving by could hurt her.”

“So, you put her in nowhere?”

“She’s doing better,” Soichiro shot back, annoyed, not wanting to mention that Sayu’s focus on him seemed to fuel her even more than being able to sit in the yard without looking around constantly. “Which you would know if you ever came to see her.”

“I have work,” Light bit out, jaw clenched. “I don’t have the luxury of quitting my job –“

“Is that why you’re upset with me? Because you feel I walked away?”

“You did walk away.” Light had a rage in him that Soichiro was taken back by, as though he had been betrayed. “It got hard and you –“

“Because I compromised everything I believe in!” Soichiro closed his eyes, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes, feeling the sting in them. “Light, I am well aware of what I’ve done. I knew the right answer and I didn’t do it because I simply couldn’t. And if I am capable of that, then I have no business in this investigation.

“Regardless, it’s not an excuse to simply ignore us.”

“This is way out of the way.” It was an added argument, as though it was all of their faults Light simply couldn’t be bothered.

It irked him, drove under his skin a little more that Light would throw their attempt at mental healing into his large pile of excuses he already steadfastly cultivated and tended.

As though nothing is his doing – it is all of us that has driven this wedge in and made it grow a mile around. Even before I thought –

“You didn’t come to see us at the old house either,” Soichiro told him, forcing his thoughts to stop as he didn’t want to face where they were going in Light’s presence.

Light shook his head, standing, his face stormy as Soichiro looked up at him. “What did you want me to do?”

“You plan to marry Misa, don’t you?” Soichiro paused, watching his son shift uncomfortably. “You’ve lived with her long enough.”

“Are we going back to this again?”

“No. But I know it would please your mother at least if you brought her to dinner.”

“So you can guilt me more in front of her?” Light demanded and Soichiro was puzzled as to how they got to this point, Light was restless, wanting out and he hadn’t seen his son in close to two weeks.

At least two weeks. I barely talk to him. He couldn’t seem to leave my bedside when I was close to death but the closer I’ve gotten to well the more he separates. Is he scared I might die on him or is it something else? Guilt? And Misa, if I could just see Misa –

A rustle at the door and they both turned, seeing Sayu pressed up against one side of the door jam, her hand on the partially closed door, watching them.

“I heard voices,” she said, staring at Light with an emotion that Soichiro couldn’t name. “I thought it was Matsuda-san, even if I didn’t know the car.”

“Sorry, stuck with me,” Light answered, trying to keep his voice light but that he was upset would be hard to miss.

What neither of them expected was Sayu simply turning and walking away.

Light narrowed his eyes, Soichiro couldn’t help but feel blamed for this reaction as Light strode after her, Soichiro getting to his feet to follow. Light caught up with her in the living room, tugging on her shoulder, not harshly, but it was enough that she jolted and immediately slipped away from him, arms wrapped around her stomach.

“What? Am I not good enough now?” Sayu was silent and Light sighed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “What’s so great about Matsuda?”

He’s jealous, Soichiro marveled, watching them.

“He’s at least thoughtful enough to bring something with him for mom and me. And dad, too. He doesn’t creep around, not bothering to say anything, and slink away.”

“Why are you so angry at me?”

Sayu ground her teeth, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she stared down at the ground. When Light tried to get closer to her she just batted him away, stepping back, muttering ‘don’t’. Sachiko had come, hearing their commotion, and came to stand by Soichiro, puzzled, a dish towel in her hands. He hoped she hadn’t been trying to make anything to eat for them. From the moment his son arrived, he knew he wouldn’t be staying long.

It wasn’t why he was here and he wondered again why Light himself came.

Maybe they all pressured him… but that note – I just sent that note not long ago with Matsuda. Is something else going on? Surely, they wouldn’t send Light if they believed there was a danger, would they? Maybe they don’t believe it, maybe they think I’ve lost my mind, or he knows –

“Sayu,” Light tried again, still holding his envelope and Soichiro didn’t miss how his son looked over at his drying coat hanging by the door. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” she got out, furious. “Nothing. You don’t do anything. That’s the problem.”

A look back at them, Light confused, lips pressed together before he turned back to his sister.

“What did you expect me to do?”

“Show up. Anything. Dad can barely walk –“

“I’m trying to catch the guy who did that!”

“He almost died!” Sayu cried out, taking a step forward, her eyes searching Light. “He might still die. You could very well die. I was trapped in a glass prison. And my brother can’t even say hello to me when he comes.”

“I’m sorry, Sayu.” Light’s voice was quiet and it felt remorseful, that he truly hadn’t wanted to make her upset. “People are dying. I have to keep going.”

A sour taste flooded Soichiro’s mouth at that, thinking of what Light could be spending his time doing, was probably doing. That his son was the reason why all those people were dying that Light professed to care about, at least on an ethical principle if not emotionally. Legs shaking he sat himself down, Sachiko worried but he shook his head, not wanting Sayu to know there was a problem.

There is no proof. These past months, perhaps it is only my mind, I’ve been away…

“Would you have even bothered to say hello to me?”

“Of course,” Light said as though offended even if Sayu didn’t look like she believed a word of it. “I was just preoccupied when I got here. The weather’s terrible, I have to get back –“

“Then get back.”

“Aneki,” Light tried but Sayu just appeared angrier.

This, outside of Matsuda’s visits, was the liveliest he had seen her in ages and it was all caused by Light being inconsiderate.

She can’t ever find out what I suspect. It would destroy her if this hurts her so much.

“Go away. Send Matsuda next time. I like when he comes. He always says hello and brings cake.”

“Cake?” Light echoed.

“From his friend’s favorite Tokyo bakery. Matsuda said he died working on this case, so he likes to buy it from time to time. I guess all the guy ate was sugar.”

Light visibly paled, Soichiro not missing the glance back at him at the mention of a man long since dead and he didn’t put it past his son to have entirely forgotten him because he had ceased to be the threat he was.

“So, that’s all it takes to replace me?” Light was grieved, looking at Sayu before walking over to his coat. “Don’t worry, I’ll have him come next time. You won’t have to remember me.”

“Like you remember us,” Sayu shot back, tears in her eyes.

Soichiro got himself up, waved away Sachiko, and limped to his son, the weather doing little for his pain as Light wrestled with his coat. It was still wet from when he first came, droplets of water scattering on the floor as he pulled it on, eyes barely looking over at him.

“Light –“

“You wonder why I don’t come to visit,” Light snapped, putting on his shoes. “It’s been so rewarding.”

“If you say a word to this to Matsuda, I won’t let you back in next time.”

Light started, hurt, before he schooled his features blank. “Nice to know you’re already moving your new potential son in.”

Reaching for the knob, Light tugged it open before Soichiro reached out without thinking, slamming the door back closed with his hand not holding his cane. They were close, Light’s breathing heavy despite his emotionless face, fingers flexing on the smooth brass of the handle.

“I expect you to not repeat my mistakes,” Soichiro hissed at him, Light looking over. “Not be even worse than I was.”

“I’ve just been busy,” Light insisted and Soichiro was close to asking if Light had been avoiding him.

Or worse. Do you know what I think about when I see you? Do you realize that I’ve been suspicious and it’s only been growing? Where did the son I had go – the one who worked with me when L was alive and could show love?

The mere idea that he was beside Kira made him drop his hand on instinct alone, afraid for all of them as Light opened the door, the wind from the storm blowing through with the sharp scent of cold and rain.

“Maybe –“ Sachiko started before cutting herself off and they both turned, seeing her with her arm around Sayu who was struggling to not start bawling in the middle of the living room. “It’s coming down hard. Maybe you should wait a few minutes.”

“I’ll be fine. I drive in it all the time.” Light’s voice was calm, even, as he seemed to will himself to shed his excess tension. “If I wait much longer it’ll be dark before I even make it halfway back.”

“Just be careful,” his wife said, Light nodding. “And it would be nice if you would come to dinner. Along with Misa. We haven’t seen her in a long time.”

Light seemed to swallow down words about what had just transpired, an audible clicking in his throat. “I’ll try.”

“We’d like a picture of the two of you,” Soichiro added, surprising himself but it felt like the best time to weasel in the request when Light at least couldn’t try to prod deeper into why.

“I – I’ll see what we have.” His son’s eyes were on him and Soichiro stared back steadfastly, striking from his mind all the murders at Amane’s hands, that she had eyes like him, that she had murdered an officer in front of them to just get to Light.

That Amane had come to his house, been around his wife and daughter without him ever knowing until days later.

What she could have done to them. Just that alone, who she is. If he was innocent, wouldn’t he tell of this strange occurrence, tell us of a woman who claimed to see him in Aoyama and followed him home? Would his distaste for L’s never-ending suspicions have been so heavy that he would have remained mute no matter how innocent he was?

A deep, cold part of him told him yes, that Light would have always withheld that information. He was certain Light had withheld information before when he was handcuffed and watched. He would hide it all now, as though it was a mess to be swept under the bed and ignored as though that was enough to make it disappear.

The sound of the rain on the porch roof was near deafening as Light finally turned from him and walked out, Soichiro caught the door as Light pulled his jacket up, envelope in the inner pocket, slender figure rushing to the car door.

“I miss you!” Sayu cried out, now beside him and Light turned, the lower portion of his pants already soaked in the rain, water collecting in puddles along the drive.

“I’ll come back!” he called back before he got in, the car starting before it backed out a minute later as they watched from the front door.

“He needed to hear what you said,” Soichiro told his daughter before she could apologize as he stepped back to get the door closed and the storm once again shut out. “He knows better.”

“Matsuda –“ Sayu stopped, her voice uneven and uncertain. “Matsuda-san thinks that Light’s afraid of losing us. That he stays away because he thinks it will hurt less.”

He exchanged a look with his wife who looked stricken. It was something he had been through with Sachiko and under normal circumstances, he would agree.

“It’s possible,” Soichiro allowed as he guided his daughter towards the kitchen, certain Sachiko had been making lunch. “But doesn’t excuse it.”

“I know. It just – I can understand that if – if he felt like that.” She took a breath, her face pale as she looked at him.

“Still here,” he told her, seating himself at the table, and seeing Sachiko’s work all laid out on the counter. “Why don’t you get yourself cleaned up?”

Sayu agreed and he let himself be served tea, having learned that it would only end in argument if he tried to get it himself. Sachiko herself was trying to hide her own hurt, back to chopping vegetables for whatever she was making, the knife making sharp little thwacks that were far louder than he was used to hearing.

They can’t know. I can’t ever let them find out. How can I ever tell them that Light maybe regrets that we’re alive, that he saved us? No, he didn’t save us. He caused the issue to begin with. Mello would not have been in our lives if Kira didn’t exist and Light is responsible for all those –

He made his mind stop working, rubbing his forehead, listening to the distant sound of a door closing, his wife angrily chopping, and the sounds of the rain hammering against the roof, not wanting to think of what the actual truth could be.

“Your son’s an ungrateful little bastard, isn’t he?”

Soichiro looked sharply over at the doorway, seeing Ryuk lounging against it, all teeth in a wide, knowing smile, as if they shared some sort of secret. Swallowing, he forced back an answer, a question, he wasn’t sure what words wanted to come out, really, other than he wasn’t alone and couldn’t speak.

This thing was still around his family because of Light. No matter the promises to not kill anyone, every moment that passed they were in danger and he didn’t even have a way to tell them. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t prove it, outside of getting the book for them to touch.

And I can’t leave them. If I wasn’t injured, yes, I could lure this thing away, be somewhere else. But I have no good reasons and it would only show fear if I did something like that.

“Something wrong, dear?”

“The storm’s playing tricks on me,” he said, voice even as he returned his focus to his tea, Sachiko frowning slightly before going back to work.

“Just restless,” he whispered to her in the darkness, hearing her half-awake sigh as he got up.

Sachiko had gotten used to his nighttime wandering as he pulled on a few clothes and quietly made his way out of their bedroom. Ryuk was playing with the small device that Sachiko thought her husband occupied these sleepless nights with. It was easier, the Shinigami distracted as Soichiro put on his coat, Ryuk was accustomed to all of this and he knew the creature would watch to not be discovered.

Going out, he stopped by the small woodpile, retrieving what he knew Matsuda had left here earlier. It was a phone, wrapped in a bag with the battery out and he walked out to a chair that was left for him under the low-hanging branches of the trees. It hadn’t rained in over a day and Soichiro sat, putting the phone together and switched it on, waiting.

A few minutes later it lit up and he glanced towards the house, not seeing Ryuk but not trusting that he was truly alone.

“Hello, Yagami-san,” a familiar voice said at his answer and he felt he shouldn’t be so surprised that Near himself spoke to him. “I am told there have been developments.”

“Yes.”

“And that you have a new friend.”

“Yes.”

“How certain are you about what you told the others?”

“Very,” and he hated how his voice broke even just over one word.

There were simply no answers that made as much sense as the one he had, even if he didn’t understand why it had happened, everything aligned to point to Light.

All these years, all this suffering.

“I am still devising a way to get what we want, as I think being told directly is the only way to truly prove everything, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” he answered, hating his life was whittled down to that one word.

“I can track this phone. If it is on, I will know.”

“I understand.”

An emergency distress beacon, so Near could find him and Soichiro made himself focus, wondering how much longer he truly had, how close Light must be to writing his name, wishing he had some way to see Misa to know for sure.

Does he even like Misa? Women? Men? Does he want anyone? Please, don’t let him be one of those murderers –

“If you can find a way to get to me why you think the way you do, please do,” Near was saying ripping him away from his dark thoughts, of men he had arrested, and read about over his career. “Otherwise, I will think of a plan to finish this.”

“Alright,” Soichiro got out, not liking that he couldn’t simply nod.

“Take care, Soichiro Yagami.”

The call was ended and he immediately turned off the phone, pulling out the battery before standing, his body forever hurting.

“I won’t tell, So-chi,” Ryuk told him, looking bemused when he came back inside and he was cold all over again. “I told you, I’m here to watch.”

Pressing his lips together, he made himself not protest that he didn’t think that was entirely true and simply nodded, disliking the interest Ryuk had in him, how bright those eyes were.

Games, all of this was a game and he was losing weight again because he couldn’t keep food down half the time due to what his son had become.

It was stifling, this truth, and he wanted to ask Ryuk point blank, uncertain if the creature would admit it or lie to just see what would happen next.

“You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I’ll take your concern into consideration,” Soichiro bit out, voice very soft and Ryuk laughed again.

“Always spirited. I like you, So-chi.”

Going back to his wife, hating that Ryuk was near them at all despite the pledges of not hurting his wife or daughter and hating himself more for exposing them to this, he didn’t want to think if it was good or bad that Ryuk thought him amusing.

He sat in the dark in the small room they used as an office, listening to the rain as the clock ticked steadily on.

Here, his vision felt normal. There were no names or lives or Shinigami hungering for apples or just mayhem. Here, he could believe that his family was whole, that Light was chasing the evil because he was done, his body with a constant dull ache that he held no illusions over, that it would not grow steadily with his age. He could think of his wife happily cooking for them, enjoying him being here, her soft hands, her smiles, her joy even in her sorrow that he had lost something he had dedicated so much of himself to.

“It’s time for you to rest, Soichiro,” she had told when they came home and he had become frustrated at what she termed his self-perceived uselessness. “You are needed and I have missed you. We have missed you.”

In this silence, in the dark, he could pretend Sayu had never been ripped away, made to suffer on the whims of a young man who didn’t care who he destroyed as long as he was right. That she didn’t get a distant look in her eyes, remembering things she struggled not to, believing herself at fault when she never was.

Here, he could believe that Light was who he said he was, that he was in love with his long-time girlfriend that had had her claws in him when he was barely an adult. That he wasn’t circling, debating what to do with his father.

Sayu had found a photo she had squirreled away taken on an outing with all of them. It had been a few years back, when Light still came home, would still go out to dinner with the supposed love of his life in tow addressing them as if they were her own parents. Something he had never corrected knowing her history.

Finally, he had allowed himself to look at it and saw that she had no lifespan, her laughing eyes, clinging to Light, his bemused expression never giving away what the two of them were.

And Sayu had gone looking for it because she had heard him ask Light for one, his innocent daughter telling him how much she liked this one, that they actually looked happy as if they could stand each other.

How much does she pick up on? We’ve all wondered over the years, the way Light seems to tolerate instead of love. Sayu, she’s been around them less now but knows her brother more. She used to tease him about girls, make him blush, sass him about her wild theories. and openly asking him if he kept magazines just to fluster him before Kira was an idea and I saw firsthand the show he put on for us.

He didn’t know when Matsuda would come next, afraid to even use the phone.

Light’s baby book was open on the desk beside him. He needed no lamp shining to tell him what was on each page. He knew them all by heart, having spent restless nights with them when Light was younger, and he was unable to sleep, the stress and misery of his work following him home. He would look at these, Light’s and Sayu’s, remembering all the times he had been present, imagining the ones Sachiko had captured when he was out.

The better world he had wanted for his children, for all children.

The ticking of the clock relentlessly went on, clicking away each second never to be regained. It was a second of someone’s life – his, Sayu’s, Sachiko’s, and Light’s. All of them, and he could see them all counting down until the time they ceased.

All the reasons why Light was Kira toppled over any desperate doubt he clung to, enveloped him in hopelessness, the agony of waiting to see if Light would kill him today. His inaction he blamed on being unable to travel, waiting for someone to come to him.

In reality, he still couldn’t find a way to voice what he saw.

Could Light kill him? Would he have Misa do it instead? Would Light cry when he died, a necessary sacrifice for his perfect world that was a delusion of wishful thinking and a lust for power? Would Light stand stoic beside his mother and sister, promising them he would provide, locking them away here as he bathed the world in fire? Would the rest of his officers die once he was gone, the last pin holding Light in step to any appearances of normalcy, of innocence?

Had his son ever loved them, loved anyone?

The rain poured on, flowing down the roof slates, running the mazes of the gutters, and seeping into the soil to nourish the plants that would continue after he was gone.

Spring was coming and he feared he wouldn’t be here to see the trees blossom.

Ryuk had found him and Soichiro turned his head slightly, seeing the creature in the doorway in its customary stance, shoulders hunched over, arms hanging down beside its knees. The pallor of it was illuminated in the low light and it truly looked like a ghost, of death.

It came to where he sat, its long spidery fingers ghosting over the open page beside his drink untouched on the desk.

“Are you accomplishing much in the dark, brooding?” Ryuk asked but there was no rudeness. Curiosity, maybe, Soichiro thought it wondered why humans did the things they did.

“Not particularly,” he answered. “But I wasn’t trying to.”

“Ah.” Ryuk leaned down, putting their faces even, its eyes almost with a glow due to the reflection of the dim hall lamp catching them at this angle. “You okay?”

“Not in the slightest.” Soichiro stopped himself, remembering who Ryuk had worked for, and rolled his head, trying to alleviate tension, rubbing his arm in the cool air of the house that was settling more into him. “Just couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to keep Sachiko up.”

“You mean to keep her from fretting endlessly over your no sleep.”

It was good-natured, Sachiko’s drive to care for him, for anything really and it wasn’t subtle. He swore an injured snake could show up at the door and she’d take it in.

The idea that she might even fret over Ryuk was both sobering and hilarious to his exhausted mind.

Ryuk stood, lumbering away and Soichiro let out the air he had been holding. He was cold but he didn’t want to get up, his robe was all the way in the bedroom and even the idea of getting up for the blanket in the other room seemed daunting and pointless.

So, it came as a surprise when Ryuk reappeared, dragging that same blanket he had been craving in with it, draping it around his shoulders.

Soichiro bit back words about how that did little to alleviate his trust issues, Ryuk shuffling back out.

“I told you, I’m just here to watch, So-chi. I’m trying to decide if you’re just watching, too.”

The creature was gone. Soichiro closed his eyes, listening to the rain and the clock and the house creak as it settled in the dead of night, wondering that, too.

Chapter Text

Sachiko would be cross with him. So would the rest and he kept his focus on the windshield wipers brushing the water away as dawn was breaking.

Ryuk sat in the back, that same bemused look he often had.

The phone Near had given him was turned on and hidden in his pocket. He wasn’t sure how many times it had been called. He wouldn’t doubt that it had been, to tell him he was being reckless. But he felt he couldn’t idly sit any longer, awaiting death while others tried to figure out a way to entrap his son. And, if he didn’t go, if he didn’t relay to all of them what he knew, then they were worse off when he died, suspicious but helpless with how any of this worked.

“So, you couldn’t take sitting anymore wondering if he would kill you today,” Ryuk finally said and Soichiro managed to keep the car on the road.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And, you do not lie nearly as well as he does. At least, not when you’re startled.”

Glancing in his mirror, Soichiro saw the Shinigami appear relaxed, watching him with those strange yellow-black eyes, its teeth displayed razor sharp in its smile. His hands sweated and he worried that he would die before he ever got there.

What he would do when he got there, he was trying to be firm on, notes hidden in the home he left behind for his wife and daughter because there was no way to tell them the truth or soften what was to come.

“Anyone else would be dead already,” Ryuk continued, leaning back against the seat. “I think he knows that you know. He told you to ask me if there was a way to lose memory, didn’t he? Probably under the guise to protect yourself.”

“Yes,” Soichiro ground out because Light had in fact called him two days ago and in a hurried whisper had asked if it was possible.

He had said he would ask, would consider it, Light sounding lighter at the end of the call.

Not for the first time, he wondered how his son saw him, if he thought him too weak.

Of course, this Shinigami could have overheard our call and is merely playing into my paranoia.

“He has this belief that you can’t win if you always play defensively. But, given that you crashed an armored van into a building while very ill, I think you know that.”

Soichiro kept his eyes on the road, not wanting to look as the world began to take form in the early light, wondering if this would be the last time he saw everything. Kissing his wife and daughter goodbye, lying that he was going for a walk before taking the car.

If he didn’t come back, they’d have to call someone to come get them and the knife in him twisted more.

“What do you want?”

“As I said, just here to watch.”

There were so many questions, starting with why Light but he swallowed them all backdown, not wanting the answers now. Maybe, in the future, he would before he drove himself insane if he lived through the day. But not now. None of that mattered unless Light was corrupted by ownership and Soichiro didn’t think that was the case. He in no way wanted to kill anyone and even with a deal in place, nothing about his beliefs had changed.

Idly, he had wondered if Light had tested the Notebook and had driven himself to this when it was real. L had been of the theory that the first death was to save lives and he felt his son may not have been able to tell the difference at how young he was.

If Light gave up his memories again, would that save him?

Ryuk fell silent but Soichiro was no fool – he knew it was ever watchful and he hoped beyond all measure that Ryuk wouldn’t suddenly be gone, flying off to tell Light of his impending arrival as they drove on.

Finally, through the growing snarl of the city traffic picking up its share of morning commuters, he navigated to the building he hadn’t been to for a few months but had been his office, more or less, for several years.

After he parked, the engine turned off, he waited, trying to breathe, his hand in his pocket and he felt it, the phone vibrating on silent. Pushing the correct button he answered the call, the phone left hidden. He stared at the rain-damp street, Ryuk leaning forward.

“You actually going to do this?”

Not answering, Soichiro got out of the car, hoping that Near didn’t speak because the Shinigami would be able to hear.

“You have a plan, right? I mean, I don’t want to watch you walk into your death. You’re actually interesting.”

Soichiro stared at Ryuk, uncertain how to take that. Though, his mind mused, this thing had been alive for probably as long as humans had walked the earth given what little he knew about them. Perhaps there was value in being entertainment.

All his access to the building still worked as he let himself in, Aizawa already standing when he entered the main apartment. They had seen his approach and he knew there was no way around that.

“Chief. We weren’t expecting you. Are you sure –“

“I’m not dead. I’ve already told you that,” he said, disliking how sharp his voice was as he made his way into the room, Light both amused and tense. He didn’t bother with his coat, the phone from Near heavy in his pocket and he knew that Light most likely suspected his men were working both sides.

It was only a matter of time before they were all dead, Light’s only hope of sparing him was if he took the offer, and returned the book to Ryuk. And the idea of living like a worm beneath his son’s murderous heel enraged him. That he would do that to his mother and sister, Light allowing them in this supposed world he was creating, Kira’s rhetoric leaking everywhere when it was false, an illusion of freedom when it was shaped on the whims of a young man.

Matsuda joined them and Soichiro belatedly realized he had not been with the rest. Seeing him, he understood why. He looked poor, sleepless, and haunted, his coat open but his clothing was clean.

“Dad, you should be at home,” Light said, voice soft, his son still seated and looking up. There was a challenge in those eyes, telling him to turn back.

Soichiro knew his life was already forfeit.

“I wish to test the thirteen-day rule.”

“Yagami-san,” Aizawa said, startled, Light’s head jerked a little in surprise. “You aren’t serious.”

“I am. I will be the one as I am already the owner of one of these cursed things. We will pick someone already condemned and I will write their name.” He turned to Ryuk who was watching him with interest. “If I chose to, can I make their death painless?”

Ryuk grinned at him, a hunger in those eyes as though he wished to drag him down into the same pit Light had fallen in.

“They can be simply unaware that they are dying, given that you write a cause of death within forty seconds of their name. You’ll have six minutes and forty seconds to write what you want. Or write the name last. Then you’ll have all the time you want to get it right before you add that. As long as you visualize the person and know the name, it doesn’t matter when the name gets written.”

“Good,” he answered, turning back to his son who had slightly narrowed eyes. “That will suffice.”

“You’re going to kill someone?” Light asked, incredulous, his lip twitching and Soichiro was uncertain if Light was trying not to laugh or snarl. “Mello was actively trying to kill you –“

“I wanted to kill him.”

Light frowned at him, and Soichiro knew his son didn’t understand the difference. Glancing at his men, he could see Aizawa nod quietly the other’s firm behind him, Matsuda the only one looking at him, uncertain, but Soichiro knew he would follow.

“So, instead of killing the man who hurt our family, you’re going to kill a man you don’t want to kill.” Light paused, tilting his head. “Have you told mom? At least that you may not come home?”

“No. I find no reason to burden her, especially since I believe it is a falsehood.”

Light spread his hands out and then shook his head. “Why now? Aizawa himself demanded my release because of this rule. All of you told L that we could not test it, demanded he stop in his efforts –“

“And he died because he would not stop,” Aizawa interrupted, staring at Light, his voice shocked. “He died because regardless of what we said, he was always going to find a way. It’s why that Shinigami died to kill him, is it?”

“Are you saying that you believe I’m Kira again?” Light raised an eyebrow. “After everything, after he convinced you to put a gun to my head, let him spy on me, lock me up, chain me to him, and found nothing to pin on me, you come years later with this.”

“Yes.”

“You have been through a lot,” Light said softly, his voice empathetic and Soichiro wondered if his son did feel guilt, ever could. “What you see, the burden on you now, I can’t imagine. And you’ve been so isolated. I’ve been worried for you.”

So worried you never come to see us. Can barely stand to look at me.

“Then prove me wrong.”

“You expect me to condone your suicide? Are you mad?”

“I believe I very well may die, but not from that rule,” Soichiro said, worried about Misa, that she may be put into action before the day was through and could be brought in. “It is the only way to conclusively prove your innocence, Light.”

“That the lack of evidence making me Kira doesn’t do?” Light’s voice was tight. “All these years and you still make me guilty in your mind.”

“I have a stipulation with this,” Soichiro went on, making himself not confirm his belief in his son’s guilt, feeling as though a part of him was being torn out. “Outside of picking the target myself.”

“Oh? And that would be?”

“That you and Misa surrender yourselves to Near for confinement during the duration of those thirteen days.”

“And that went so well the last time? You expect him to play fair, for me to put her through that again?”

“When you went to Aoyama, you were looking for the other Kira, knowing she had eyes like mine. It is how Ukita was killed, the name is on display to us, we need only the paper. When she saw you, you had no lifespan at that time because you were Kira and hadn’t given me your book. It’s how she always knew your name, why she never needed to actually meet you there, why she followed –“

“No,” Light ground out, standing. “You are ill.”

“She became focused on you because she could see the truth. It’s why you took her inside, talked to her, and endangered your mother and sister with a stranger. It’s why she was so in love with you, she was in love with Kira. She always claimed to like his ideals during her time with L. You just had her memories wiped so she didn’t remember it fully until you decided to use her to kill L.”

“You believe this nonsense?” Light waved a hand, turning slightly. “I have a lifespan now, do I not?”

“Yes. I believe you have a way. You knew you’d have to be around one of us for thirteen days. The pages operate the same on their own as they do in the book before you lent it to me. This situation was always supposed to be temporary. And Misa still has her eyes.”

“There’s no proof for any of this outside of your words.”

“It’s why we have to test the thirteen-day rule.”

“And what will happen when we do this and you die in thirteen days? Are you that eager?”

“Then I will die knowing that you are actually innocent despite everything. The weight of you lying to me for years will be gone and at least I will have some happiness.”

Light frowned again, head still tilted away and Soichiro knew his son was calculating. What couldn’t happen was Light contacting anyone else. There were rabid Kira supporters and he worried that more may have been enlisted into Light’s scheme, especially since the pages worked independently of the book. It was a gamble, if one of them knew and killed him at the right time, then all was lost and the truth would be forever buried and so many led to ruin.

“It has to be now, Light. Surrender now. We will collect your fiancée.”

“You won’t even let me talk to her? Explain what is going on?”

“No.” It was Mogi, staring at Light with something like hate. “The original Kira was able to set times of death. We can’t allow you to pass a code to her. I believe it will be a far simpler matter of killing Yagami-san for her than for you.”

Light scoffed, shaking his head. “And if I say no to killing my own father in his bid for suicide?”

“You don’t have a choice.”

Turning, Soichiro was surprised when he shouldn’t have been to see Matsuda with his weapon drawn.

“Are – are you actually planning on shooting me in my own home?” Light said, surprised finally, hands rising slowly. “If I don’t allow my father’s death wish, you will just kill me?”

“Either way the killing will stop,” Ide answered. “I would like you to choose the option that’s least painful to your father you claim to care so much for.”

“How do we know this Shinigami won’t kill like the other?” Aizawa asked, eyeing Ryuk who seemed amused by the very idea.

“We’re all different,” Ryuk said, shrugging. “I just watch.”

“Have you killed anyone during this?”

“Nope. Don’t plan to either, except the original owner of the book when it was dropped.” Ryuk’s voice was lazy, his answer vague enough that it brought more questions.

“Will you tell us who the original owner is?” Soichiro asked and got a head shake.

“I’m not supposed to reveal stuff like that to you or who has what Death Note. It’s up to you all to figure that part out. I’m just along for the ride, So-chi.”

Light was watching him, and Soichiro knew his son was still calculating. His mind drifted back to the arrest of Higuchi when he had first learned that these monsters were real. It was something he had played over and over again in his mind. L was uncertain how the man had died. Rem, he was fairly certain that had been its name, claiming it had nothing to do with that and Soichiro believed it. Light had found a way to kill him. His son perhaps had hidden a scrap on himself at some point and he tried to think where Light would have placed such a thing to survive.

Higuchi had to die for Light to regain full ownership and retain the memories he had just gotten back. There was no other answer that fit and for once, Misa was innocent, in chains back at the building, unable to do anything. She had no way to time it so that the man died right after Light touched it. Even her powers never went that far.

Shifting, Light looked over to Matsuda and didn’t relax, meaning he was still threatened when a call sounded, the letter N appearing on the screen. Aizawa walked forward, pushing a couple of buttons to answer.

“Yagami-san has a phone in his pocket to allow me to listen to this conversation,” Near said as a way of greeting and Soichiro felt he should not have been so upset over the brief look of fury Light gave him. “I am willing to play along with this plan and assist in both the confinement and helping to provide a selection for potential targets.”

Near’s voice was flat, emotionless, and Soichiro wished he could display that range. L had been able to, at times, as he thought back to their meeting where L had blandly asked him to threaten Light in a murder-suicide to see if anyone died. Before they had ever known there was a whole other component and he wondered, even now, how L actually felt about that other than the apology he had gotten shortly before his death, L telling him it was all for nothing, what he had gone through.

“I will not change my mind because there is no other answer that is correct.”

“Near,” Light said, voice low as he kept watch on Matsuda. “You can’t possibly believe any of this.”

“I have enough without this to believe the rules are false, the same as your father,” Near said, voice steady. “Given what he has already stated, I trust that it is wise to prove the veracity of these rules before we proceed fully. Even if they are true, it is unwise to simply assume so.”

“You’ll kill him.”

“He chooses to do this. I respect that decision, unlike you, Light Yagami. If he sacrifices his life, it will not be in vain because it will finally put this to rest, he will die with that knowledge, and we will have a better understanding of what we are fighting.”

“No,” Light got out, beginning to drop his hands and Soichiro’s blood became ice when he heard the gun cock behind him.

“Light,” Ide warned. “I don’t think Matsuda is joking around.”

“Because he does everything you say,” Light spat out, and Soichiro winced at the anger leveled at him. “Your perfect lap dog.”

“No.” Matsuda’s voice was quiet and Soichiro chanced a look back. The face that met his was grief-stricken more than angry. “What he’s saying makes sense. And his burden now should have always been mine. I let him do this and I shouldn’t have.”

“Matsuda, this isn’t your fault,” Soichiro told him gently.

“You have a wife and daughter who need you, no matter what Light has done. Even more so with what Light has done. If we end this today, it still doesn’t reverse what you’ve given up.”

“No,” Soichiro agreed. “But that doesn’t make it your burden.”

“I will assume that the Shinigami has stated it has no part in killing currently,” Near said, drawing their attention back to his presence.

“Yeah,” Ide answered. “He claims he’s just here to watch and that we already have his book.”

“And this Shinigami that killed the real L and Watari? What of it?”

Soichiro thought back to what had been going on. The killings had just restarted and L was insistent that it was linked to Misa because she had just visited Light outside two days prior. At the time, he had felt it a stretch but it would make sense because she would need time to prepare, go back through all the news, and find everyone to kill them all at once. And if she could write their times of death, she could add them to her list as she went along, orchestrating it while Light sat in front of them all pleading his innocence.

“He never leaves. Do you not think it strange, Yagami-san, that he circles?”

Why hadn't he seen it before?

“Didn’t Misa also get that guy to confess to being Kira somehow?” Mogi asked, hesitant and Soichiro nodded. “She had it on her phone but never said how she got it. At least, in a way that made sense. I remember wondering if he was just boasting, thinking we were putting Matsuda in danger for nothing.”

It’s why he was so focused on Misa. She had snuck off to get it and if they could see the Shinigami, if she had come back to herself or that one just allowed it, then perhaps that one with Higuchi told her in some way, perhaps by simply being next to him that he was guilty.

And because of that rule, we never pushed. Their involvement was thought to be impossible because they still lived.

He pushed away memories of sleepless nights when his mind had turned over other possibilities, the nagging doubt that had festered in him, blinded by family bonds and trust.

“Interesting,” Near was saying. “So, he had a reason to suspect her and wanted to prove that the rules were false, therefore incriminating the two he had pinpointed. Are we sure about the current Shinigami with you?”

Soichiro looked at Ryuk who nodded at him. “Yes,” he said. “As much as I can be. I think Light has entangled him at times, but I believe him when he says he is here to watch.”

“Very well. I activated a strike team to apprehend Amane when you got to the building –“

“Near,” Soichiro said, stepping forward and afraid for those men despite himself. “I’ve seen a picture of her. She has no life span – she’s still active.”

Light visibly paled and Soichiro forced himself to remain upright, to not succumb to the grief building up to a crescendo inside him and he feared for his heart. He was in no way well and it was possible this would kill him.

They’ll be alone. I will have left them alone in this world to finish this and they will never understand.

“I understand. They were under orders to hide their faces. We will continue searching for the book she must have.”

Light curled his lip and Soichiro knew in the bottom of his stomach that his son had done something. Turning, he walked deeper into the apartment, looking for the photos he knew were kept. The ones closest to the space they used were gone, slightly darker wallpaper from where they had hung and he wondered if the others had wandered deep enough to notice the change.

In case I came. I wonder what excuse he has for this. Perhaps that she is on a redecorating kick or that he was tired of them.

He was expecting me to do something for a while now, hasn’t he?

In the back, in the bedroom the two shared, after searching through the drawers, he found a picture of them together nestled with her underwear. She was impulsive and probably kept it once Light had tried to tell her of the dangers of such a thing.

Her lifespan was intact now.

His steps felt heavy as he came back, cane barely helping, Light watching him with interest.

“There is a way for a Death Note owner to lose their memories,” he started, his voice weak at what this could mean for everyone in the room. “I was told I could revoke my rights to it. In doing such, all my memories would be gone, I would lose my enhanced vision, and the life I gave up would never be returned.” He took a breath aware of the eyes on him. “I believe they did this when L took them into custody, which is why it was so convincing. And I believe he had Misa do it again as her lifespan is visible now. The book may very well be in the hands of another.”

“And that would mean all of you are in danger,” Near answered. “I have a team en route to you to assist.”

He went to his son, Light’s eyes following the small photo he held in his fingers, his unhappiness evident over Amane once again not listening to him. And in doing so, helped reveal a secret much faster. Who his child had gotten to murder at will he wasn’t sure but there seemed an endless supply of people wanting this kind of power.

“Don’t resist,” he told Light as Aizawa came closer to cuff Light.

“You always were a fool,” Light told him softly and Soichiro couldn’t hide his flinch at those words. “You do this but wouldn’t kill Mello.”

“It would have been cold-blooded with means far different than a gun, Light,” he answered. “I wanted him to suffer for what he’s done to us, to others.”

“There is little difference between that and you saying you’d kill some convict.”

“I would be offering someone I knew was facing death already a peaceful way out and not satisfying my want to cause suffering.”

Light scoffed and Soichiro saw Matsuda finally lower his weapon as Light was secured, Mogi going to meet the incoming men from Near.

“Did you have orders to have us killed if you disappeared?” Aizawa asked and Light shook his head.

“Think. Wouldn’t anyone doing that just be proclaiming their guilt?” The iciness in Light’s voice was unmistakable.

Does he still think there is a way out? That he can find a way to circumvent us? He could forget again, but – he is prideful. I can’t see him giving it all up again.

“I never forgot Mihael’s name or face, Light,” Soichiro said, appreciating how large those eyes got, confirming that Light had indeed decided on a different way to deal with Mello. “I just chose not to go down that path. And, I believe that he is the one that sent me a note while I was still in the hospital telling me the rules were false.”

“He tested them,” Near said as footsteps sounded out in the entry hall. “And later had it confirmed by a Shinigami named Sidoh that they were indeed false.”

He stifled the want to ask why Mello had done such a thing, send him the truth after they had been trying to kill each other. He couldn’t handle the answer as a team entered with Mogi, their faces covered, obscuring their names to his eyes, though he didn’t doubt Ryuk could still see.

Silently, they took Light, adding more restraints. Those eyes that stared at him were filled with such rage that Soichiro felt his son had ceased to exist under the pressure of it.

“I still love you,” he told him and Light looked close to spitting before being pulled away as Aizawa got the book.

They were allowed to keep it granted it was firmly secured in Near’s trappings and when the men touched it, their cries of shock did little to settle his nerves.

“I’ll take it that the Shinigami is still very much present,” Near said dryily. “It should be interesting to meet such a creature.”

Ryuk laughed and shook his head. “I think this is the most I have ever talked to humans in the entirety of my existence.”

Soichiro pulled the phone out of his pocket, shutting off the call that had been going on for so long, Near’s symbol still on their screens as his men waited.

“We will speak, Yagami-san, when you arrive,” Near said, and their call ended.

Chapter Text

It was in the rather pleasant room he had been given to rest in that resembled a rather nicely appointed studio apartment where he broke down fully.

Alone finally, the others were occupied with being debriefed, demanding answers, wanting to see Light and Misa’s confinements so that they could judge if it was enough. Soichiro had felt exhausted, the numbness in him leaving and the truth of all of this demanding to be dealt with.

The heavy suspicion that Light was guilty had been hard enough to bare silently, his wife and daughter a pleasant distraction even as they worried over him. Then, he’d been able to convince himself that there was still a high enough chance that he was wrong, that he was making something out of completely nothing. An idea that he had been heavily influenced by L’s paranoia, still was, that it would be proven false again and that life would move forward.

Along with the ever-present idea that each minute alive would be his last, that Kira would kill him, or Mello would find him to finish this after torturing him with false leads.

Here, in the silent room with its ticking clock and the hum of the ceiling lights, it was unbearable. Once he began quietly weeping he could not stop. It felt like a part of him had died, was still actively dying over what had been done, what he had done.

That his child – his child –

The door was opening and he made no attempt to hide his state, long past caring what his fate was other than Sayu and Sachiko being safe. It was the only thing he still clung to, that allowed him to push breath in and out.

An older gentleman came, his face uncovered which surprised Soichiro as everyone else was wary around him. He carried a tray and Soichiro assumed it was some kind of food, his vision bleary and he made no attempt to correct it.

“Mr. Yagami,” Roger Ruvie said, setting down the tray and shutting the door. “I have to come to see how you are.”

His mind was sluggish and it took him a moment to dissect the words in English, trying to make the mental switch as he picked up on the accent. He felt this was the man Matsuda and Aizawa had spoken to when they had gone to Watari’s orphanage run under his true name.

“Did they not tell you what I see?”

“I know,” Ruvie answered, bringing a chair closer to him before taking a seat. “You know me already through your investigation and I don’t believe you will kill me.”

Soichiro nodded, as it made sense. His men had met this man and distantly he wondered if Ruvie had willingly put himself in danger to Kira’s schemes when he met with his men to tell the tale that Near had probably set him up to tell.

“Near had me recently join him here as he felt it might be better for me to approach you after your men established contact with him.” Ruvie paused, before continuing, “What I told them is true. L had not yet decided on an heir, so both Mello and Near had been selected.”

He tried to picture L condoning such a program and failed, uncertain. A hand was on his shoulder as Soichiro tried to get control of himself, disliking how far from his usual state he was. Sachiko was the only one who ever saw him like this, quiet, letting him be in the stillness of the night when his work gave him something overwhelming. It was disconcerting to be this naked.

“Near has called a doctor. We would like you to be examined.”

Helpless, he just nodded again, feeling as weak as Light seemed to feel he was.

Is all of this my fault? All those years and I spent so much time away from home? Did he think it added up to nothing and that if we just killed the evil it would stop spreading?

Reaching over, Ruvie poured a cup of what appeared to be tea and offered it, Soichiro’s hands shaking as he took it.

“Quilish mentioned you,” Ruvie told him and Soichiro tried to place the name as he was offered a small smile. “Watari.”

“Ah.” He shook his head, uncertain what could be said about him that was flattering.

“We rarely spoke. It took a lot to impress a man like him.”

The calm surface of his tea reflected his face to some degree and Soichiro disliked how unkempt he looked, his hair wild and his face worn. Despite his attempts, tears still pooled in his eyes and he swallowed, feeling as though the ghosts had come to see him.

“My wife and daughter, they don’t know.”

“Near is working with your men to find a solution for that,” Ruvie told him and there was a little relief despite the guilt that they would be left to navigate this alone.

In silence, they sat for a while, Soichiro straining to piece himself back together, finding himself wishing again that he had died that night he had gone after Mello.

His mind was foggy as he awoke, not sure where he was for a moment before remembering the doctor, Aizawa with him, the offer to sedate him so he could rest, fears over his heart as the world came back into focus.

She was laying beside him, watching, and his words were gone. Her eyes were red, that much was obvious in the semi-light of the room, the white walls in shadows behind her. He knew she had been crying and it was because of him as her fingers brushed his hair out of his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice sleep filled, uncertain what he was apologizing for or what she had been told, watching her tears fall faster.

“She doesn’t know about Light –“ Sachiko’s voice broke, face twisting and it felt like whatever threads were left of him had snapped as he understood. “Or that you bartered away your life.”

“Sachiko –“

She let out a broken sound as she watched him, weeping all over again and he felt powerless to help her, hating Near, questioning his men for letting this happen. She shouldn’t have been told, she should have been kept in the dark as her hand sunk into his hair and gripped it tightly.

“Why? Why would you think we wouldn’t care if you died?”

“It wasn’t that. I – I was a danger to you. I couldn’t make good decisions –“

“That’s not a reason!” her voice was sharp, like a crack and he closed his eyes, unable to keep looking. “They told me it was half your remaining life, but we don’t know what that was.”

“Yes. You and Sayu, you have long lives still.”

“Without you.”

There was always that chance, that high probability, with my work -

It felt empty, those reasons he had told himself, back when he had resolved to barter away what little was left of him.

Soichiro let out a breath sensing her move closer, his arm around her, her body warm under his touch and he wanted to believe he was dreaming. This was a terrible dream, that he would awaken soon and she would be safe and unknowing despite how unfair every option was.

“Why did you keep this from me?”

“I couldn’t – Ryuk was there with us.”

It was only the partial truth. He had never planned to tell her of this, her breath warm against him and he trembled.

We made him, he grew inside you, nursed from you. You cleaned him, clothed him, and loved him. How could I tell you what our child has done? I can barely handle it, how many I know that he’s killed.

“I told you, until the end.”

A sob escaped him as he buried his face against her heat, her hands on him as they wept.

Sachiko had returned to Sayu who was with his men whom she knew and trusted. At least they were here and not open targets even if Light had contingencies in place he’d rather not consider.

The man that escorted him had his face covered, Ryuk a ways behind him, eyes bright and sharp as they took everything in.

Near had requested to speak to him and Soichiro tried to swallow his rage that his family was drug even more into this mess, that Near had told the very people he had fought for so long to be safe from the fallout as much as possible.

The room he was shown into was large, a few others there with their faces concealed. A scattering of screens on the walls, workstations, people sitting and standing, going through papers and conversing. And in the center of the floor, building a miniature city with what appeared to be hundreds of dice, was a small form, hair so blonde it was almost white that was visible from around the edges of his mask. The rest of him was lost in clothing that was white and formless, obscuring his true size, a knee pulled up to his chest as Near looked up. Unlike L, he wore socks, but it was strange, the similarities between them despite how physically different they were.

He is so small, like a child even though he most likely isn’t. Thoughts he couldn’t help as he was shown to a seat a few feet away, Ryuk idling behind him and a glance told him the Shinigami found this humorous.

“Yagami-san, I am Near. I think you understand our caution.”

“Yes.”

“Good.” That head raised up, eyes brilliant and bright that were the only things visible of his face and Soichiro did not doubt they saw as much as L had. “Light and Amane have been secured and we are whittling away at the viable options for who he gave the book –“

“Why?” Soichiro got out, noticing that Near was not perturbed in the slightest by the interruption.

“Why did I tell your wife the truth?” Near tilted his head, hand reaching up to play with a stray strand of hair. “She was insistent.”

“That isn’t permission to destroy her life!”

“It is obvious that she knew you were involved in something very troubling. I came to understand that you have confided in her before –“

“Not something like this, involving our children.”

“She has every right to know,” Near continued smoothly, his eyes narrowing behind his covering. “I found no reason to keep the truth from her. She should know what she is facing. It felt disrespectful any other way and I need no permission from you.”

Clenching his jaw, his fists in his lap, Soichiro dropped his eyes, torn between rage and shame over his actions.

“Mello made contact with me about four weeks ago and informed me about the rules. I asked if he would continue to peruse you and he said no, not at this time.”

“I’m not sure I believe him.”

“I understand your misgivings. He is aware that you spared his life, even more so given you did not forget his name or his face. He is emotional at times, it gets the better of him, along with his want to prove himself.”

“Unlike others,” Soichiro said, unable to stop himself and getting the sensation that Near smiled despite the idea he had upset the man.

“Of course,” Near answered, voice even and flat as he added to his creation in front of him. “Amane is simply confused and scared right now, asking for Light and not understanding what is going on.”

A hand waved at the screen and her cell was brought up. She was shackled, arms around herself dressed in all white, her hair a mess and it was clear she had been crying. Her lifespan was clearly evident and he closed his eyes, hating that this still wasn’t over.

“Is she an owner?”

“No, she is no longer. Or at least not in direct possession of a book.”

“We believe he had to have given it to someone within the past couple of days given when you found her picture. I am surprised he waited so long to make the transfer.”

“I think,” Soichiro started, nails biting into his palm as his other hand curled around his cane, “that he was betting on us not having unpacked a good deal and we haven’t been prone to taking pictures in recent years.”

“And searching out a picture yourself?”

He shook his head. “In the region we live in now, clear reception is harder. We had made the decision early on to not have many channels. We hadn’t even unpacked the computer by the time I went to the states and our service is dial-up. Fine for plain email, poor for anything else. Before, it just wasn’t important anymore without my work.”

“It was your daughter’s picture, was it not, that you finally secured?”

“Yes.” He stared at the floor, not wanting to think about this, or what Aizawa had told him later, after they had gotten here. That they had planned to quietly steal one of the few in the apartment to be brought to him while she was out – mostly likely sent away by Light to not risk accidental exposure – but had found them gone.

He was worried. Probably from the plane if I’m honest, onwards, that I had doubts about him. I don’t think he ever realized that they had never gone away. I could just comfortably keep them at bay, blame them on stress, old ideas that simply couldn’t be disproven in totality but were false nonetheless.

He planned for the eventuality of including someone else in his scheme, getting her out of the public eye, and causing disputes so her programs and ads stopped running. I don’t understand how he would remember and still have a visible lifespan.

A buried part of him had felt quiet relief for all the days he couldn't see Misa, despite the worry it brought.

“There were no killings the afternoon you were brought in, but that was rectified this morning and we expect it to continue until we find this person. Given that three were only just mentioned publically, it makes us suspect even more that someone new has been enlisted in this plan and given Amane’s means.

“Our hope, in relation to your family, is that Light would not have told this person his name. The men investigating Kira are at high risk, but your wife and daughter, we believe, are safe from this.”

He nodded, knowing it made sense. Light was not immortal. He would not want others to know his identity due to the target it made him. And Kira’s supposed ideals prohibited the taking of innocent life.

Unless it threatens his own.

“Are you still willing to participate in the test of the thirteen-day rule? I’m sure we will all be more assured once that is laid to rest, given that Light will not speak and the Shinigamis have led us around in circles.”

Taking a deep breath, Soichiro nodded again. “Yes. I can see their lifespan through pictures. I’ll be able to tell if someone is close to death.”

“Good. There are volunteers among my own that are willing to write in your place.”

He almost protested before he thought of Sachiko, what she would say if it turned out they were wrong and he had condemned himself to die even faster.

“I know you feel responsible, that it must be you,” Near said, his voice soft which surprised Soichiro. “You do not need to take the weight of everything. His lies spread to the point that even L himself struggled to prove his guilt. You can, of course, be present when it happens, as I know all of you wish to ensure it is not used beyond that point.”

“What do you plan to do with the book?”

“Ultimately, destroy it. Given your vision is connected to it, I am willing to secure it and wait until your death to do so.”

“He needs to touch it every four hundred and ninety days to keep ownership,” Ryuk said, that same tone of laziness in his voice but Soichiro doubted that was close to what he was feeling.

“Then, for as long as you were alive, we will arrange to have you touch it during each of these cycles. I am sure you are aware of the great benefit having such a thing brings.”

“Yes. I just – I worry on the reliance.”

“That is a problem we could face, but in the end, it seems fruitless to throw such a thing along with your life away because we will solve cases with what boils down to magic.” Near let out a soft sound and Soichiro was hesitant to call it a laugh but he couldn’t think of anything else it could be. “I find myself surprised I am so willing to accept such things exist.”

“A bit easier since I’m right in front of you,” Ryuk pointed out and Near shrugged.

“Still, it is a change in how I viewed the world.”  Near shifted his gaze to Soichiro. “I had already become aware of the book, of the monster mentioned in the few testimonies of the officers Aizawa-san and Ide-san recruited to arrest Higuchi but it was easier to think of other alternatives, no matter how unlikely. I will admit it is disconcerting that a life is ended by simply writing a name on certain papers. I can see how that power would be addicting, especially to one so young.”

Soichiro nodded, not being able to push words out. The same thoughts he’d had by himself for so long. That Kira’s killing method offered a detachment. There was no physical participation in the act. It was clean, with little effort, no witnessing of the suffering, no blood, or stench, or just the presence of death outside of Ryuk who despite his appearance did not bring thoughts of the grave, necessarily.

To have that power – it promised to corrupt anyone that chose to use it. The only answer was not to.

“There is the possibility that he has already thought ahead to this and instructed his conspirator that if any premature death of a condemned prisoner takes place that you are to die in thirteen days under specific conditions. I would also posit that he assumes that you would insist upon writing the name yourself if it came down to it. Though I doubt he felt you would involve me to such an extent or that he would be quite as helpless as he is currently.”

“You think there’s still a chance that I will die no matter what we do,” Soichiro said, hating that it made sense.

“Yes. He will have no way to know other than through the Shinigami beside you that you did not write the name yourself. And even if he uses the Shinigami to communicate to his follower, he would either be forced to allow thirteen days to pass with no punishment, or to pass along a name that he would have no way of knowing.”

“He may try to claim that it is part of the real Kira’s powers, that it proves he is innocent if the latter happens.”

“That may well be, but I have come to suspect that your Shinigami is not particularly dedicated to the cause,” Near answered, eyes shifting back to where he knew Ryuk was behind him. “You were helping another Shinigami when you participated in the scheme with Mello, were you not?”

“Yeah,” Ryuk said and Soichiro turned in time to catch the shrug Ryuk was finishing. “Since I picked up a book Sidoh misplaced.”

“You stole it?” Soichiro couldn’t help the question and got slightly narrowed eyes before Ryuk smiled slightly.

“Misplaced. He misplaced it. And I found it first.” Another shrug, Ryuk scratching his head. “How was I supposed to know that he let his life run out enough that it would become pressing finally?”

“How do these books work for you?” Near asked finger back to twirling his hair. “I’m guessing it’s more than just watching things die for enjoyment.”

“Yeah, well, it’s really how we extend our lives. Like, if I killed a human with sixty years remaining, I would be granted those sixty years. Humans don’t get that. It’s just death for them. They only extend their lives if they kill someone actively trying to hurt them or who will kill them.”

“I see,” Near said. “And so, this other Shinigami, Sidoh, was down to little time and needed to have ownership of a book in order to be able to reap life and keep existing?”

“I think so,” Ryuk stared up at the ceiling and Soichiro wanted to scream. Did this creature not know how it all worked? “To be honest, I don’t know of a Shinigami attempting to use a human-owned notebook. So, if it was, say, loaned to them or sub-lent, it may work in that instance. Don’t know any Shinigami that would be willing to ask a human to do such a thing.”

“And a Shinigami cannot just kill a human to take back the book?”

“Not without a notebook of their own. We are forbidden from killing you guys any other way.”

“What happens if you do?” Soichiro asked.

“Agony and death,” Ryuk replied casually.

“That Shinigami, Rem,” he started and got met with a long sigh.

“She was – different,” Ryuk decided. “She developed feelings for a human. I never really understood it. I mean, I like So-chi, but I’m not dying for him.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Soichiro said and got a strange, rather happy smile in return.

“One of the reasons I like you.”

“So, she killed the real L to stop him from doing what we’re about to do. But you won’t do the same,” Near said and Ryuk nodded.

“Like I keep telling you guys – I'm not here to write names.”

“And you wouldn’t just tear us apart?” Near asked, seemingly curious and Ryuk let out a low laugh.

“There’s a lot of you. Even if I had any want to do that, I’d be dead after the second one at most, and wouldn’t that just prove what you’re trying to prove anyway?”

It was a hollow comfort and Soichiro wondered if Ryuk had ever contemplated killing a human like that.

“I suppose that will have to do for now. I would like to know if the original Kira was told any of this or that he must kill.”

“The book dropped told of the basic rules. An owner never has to kill or otherwise use the book, though I don’t know of any who hasn’t in some way used it. Nothing compelled him to do anything.”

“Why?” Soichiro whispered before clearing his throat, shifting slightly as his body ached. It was a question he never wanted an answer to. “Why did you bring it here?”

To his surprise, Ryuk shuffled as though apprehensive.

“I was curious what a human –“

“Curious? Curious! You were bored and you targeted my son –“

“No, I simply dropped it with the rules. I didn’t have to put anything in it but I felt that it wouldn’t be as interesting if it was merely blank,” Ryuk snapped. “It was on the ground, the first person to pick it up owns it. By the time I got to Kira, he had already been very busy.”

The slew of killings that started after the first death, the hostage taker that L always felt marked the start of Kira’s career, and Soichiro closed his eyes and made himself breathe deeply. It would be no good to yell at this thing. Light had tested it, that much was obvious, and instead of destroying it, throwing it away, or coming to someone, he had done this instead.

This creature deals in death. He sees us differently. He has no concept of our lives but Light, Light should have. I don’t understand why unless Light felt he would be punished and when that didn’t happen, he lost his mind in some way.

This was the closest Ryuk had ever come to saying Light was Kira to someone outside of him and he wanted to shake his son and ask if everything was worth it.

“Yagami-san, we have some pictures for you to look through. The men selected are convicted of crimes that many would agree should not warrant death but they are facing it anyways, and have been kept in prisons that would violate international law.” Near’s steady voice brought him back to his present circumstances and he managed a nod. “Once it is confirmed that they are all set to die, we will commence with this plan in a few days' time. Your men are free to be present, also. For the duration of the thirteen days, I would like for you, your wife, and your daughter to remain with us.”

“Alright,” he said not certain if it was or not, it was the only thing left to say. “Ryuk, can lifespans change?”

“They can, though it is rare,” Ryuk answered. “I think you know that a Death Note is capable of changing fate but sometimes, without it, things can drastically change.”

“Then we will make sure as much as possible that these men have no hope,” Near said, back to building his small city with his hundreds of dice. “My plan is to have the current owner of Amane’s book in custody before the end of the thirteen days. I would like to wait longer, but people are continuously dying and I am running out of reasons to not take this risk. Of course, we will not be able to do anything if he or she has already written down a name, but at least we will have our answer and Light’s shield will be broken.”

Soichiro stared at his hands, trying not to break until a man came to him, offering him a set of photos of men whose eyes stared back at him, their lives all over in the next seventy-two hours and he wondered who set these lifespans, not wanting to ask.

Chapter Text

Before they had Light, Sachiko had miscarried twice and after his birth, their next was their first daughter who was stillborn at twenty-two weeks. It was an experience he would never forget, Light was barely able to walk when they buried her, keeping it a secret from their children.

Now, his wife was beside him as they were led down a hall by men with their faces covered to see his son that was soon to be condemned, Sachiko refusing to be told no to coming. Soichiro remembered when they had lost their first daughter, how she had wept, curled in on herself and he had been barely any better, wanting to bury himself in work and only stopping because Light needed care and she needed time.

They entered through one set of doors that clanged shut behind them, and as they waited for the next set, Soichiro took her hand. Her face was set, stoic but her fingers betrayed her, entwined and clutching at his.

They had agreed to not tell Light that his sister was here. She was currently sitting with Matsuda, Mogi, and Ide, Aizawa himself off making sure his own little family was safe because of the growing danger that the task force could die suddenly at any time. All of them were known due to Light, and he could very well have commanded them to be killed if Kira became inactive for any reason. It all came down to what Light had told whoever had the book now and their own will.

Two chairs, side by side about twenty feet ahead of them, were the only things that stood out in the near complete whiteness of the hall in front of them. Moving forward, waved on by the man with them, they went and he could hear Sachiko’s breathing speed up.

Across from those chairs, held in stark relief under the unmerciful brightness of lights behind bars, stood his son, dressed in the same white clothes as Misa had been, shackled heavily, standing when he saw them, eyes going wide.

“Mom?” he whispered, taking a step forward and Soichiro couldn’t help his flinch before Light was forced to stop by the anchors of the chains keeping him away from the bars. “Mom, what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” she said, her voice already thick and her hand caught in Soichiro’s was so tight it was painful. “Light, what have you done?”

“You shouldn’t be here.” Light’s attention turned to him, something like fear and fury mixing together in his son. “Why would you do this?”

“I didn’t. She was told without my knowledge.”

“Because he is my son!” Her voice was pained and Soichiro bowed his head, knowing she was looking at him now. “You do not get to carry everything on your shoulders. I should have known long before this point, been given time to understand over what was done.”

There was nothing he could say to that and leaned heavily on his cane until she pulled a little on his hand, getting him to come to the chairs and sit. Everything ached more and more with each passing hour as he watched Light, restless in his cage, the one he had made for himself.

“Sayu,” Light asked, thin and sharp. “Did you dump this on her head, too?”

“No,” Soichiro answered, making himself look at his child. “You’re still her hero.”

The expression Light had was complicated, hard to pick apart and decipher, before Light dropped his eyes, pulling a little at the chains that bound him to the other side. They were quiet as Soichiro tried to think what he wanted to say to Light, to any of this.

“Why did you kill all those people?” Sachiko asked before he could form his own thoughts and Light’s mouth became tight.

“They say I’m guilty. They have no proof, only what dad says.”

“That’s not all,” she answered, staring at him, her free hand clutching at her knee. “Even if it was, it would mean a great deal as he is your father.”

“He is ill. He should be getting help, not allowed to destroy our lives.”

“Light,” he warned, disliking where his son was going but she shook her head.

“No, he is scared. As much as I want him to tell me the truth, I didn’t think he would.”

Light scoffed, shaking his head, angry. “The truth? What truth is that? That dad has almost died too many times now and for what? Did he tell you what he did?”

“I know,” she answered, her voice firmer. “I was told that he traded his life for the ability to see names and lives. That he can see all of ours if we show our faces to him.”

Light swallowed, wanting to pace but hindered greatly by his chains. “And you’re still speaking to him?”

“I am angry. So angry that he would do this but I love him, I know why he did it even if it wasn’t right.” She raised her head up more, watching Light who stilled slightly. “I know why you thought you were right.”

“Really?” His voice was snide and Soichiro longed for the days when Light was younger and all he had to do was stand to get the boy to back down, to at least consider his choices even if he stewed. “You’ve already decided?”

“It became so normal, your achievements. When you were a little boy, I worried over all the praise heaped on you, I thought it would go to your head. But as the years went on and you continued to excel, I thought there was less and less harm in you being told that you were perfect.”

“I don’t –“ Light paused, frowning.

“They told me that the original L had a theory that you tested this book on a man who was taking innocent lives.” Her voice broke and Soichiro squeezed her hand as Light became rigid, understanding finally how much she knew. “Did you think there was no way back?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about –“

“Please,” she whispered, “stop lying, at least to me, to your father. I’ve spent so many hours trying to understand you and all I can come to is that you felt you were doing good as this Kira.”

“Some would tell you that Kira has stopped wars, and lowered crime. Would you still judge him the same way?”

“Yes,” she answered. “It is fear. The evil is still there, it just cowers and is displayed in other ways.”

Sachiko was crying but Soichiro thought she had never looked so beautiful as she watched Light at a loss for words for a moment.

The door was opening and he looked over, seeing Ryuk lounging in the corner as another man joined them carrying something. A glance at the creature before they were approached, a bag was held out to them and he took it.

Inside was the watch he had given Light when he had graduated as the top student in the country. And it was apparent he had altered it to have a hidden compartment that was shown out. Sachiko’s fingers brushed it through the plastic before he turned it over, seeing the inscription on the back.

“What was in it?” he made himself ask and he was shown a small bag with a piece of paper and a needle. He understood the paper but the needle was strange, Sachiko frowning as she looked.

“Ink does not need to be ink,” Ryuk intoned from his corner, Light glaring even if he couldn’t see the creature and everything in Soichiro felt frozen.

“Blood?” he whispered before he could stop himself, Sachiko paling. “This is how you killed Higuchi. You got your memories back and then used what you had hidden –“

“That’s what you come up with?” Light snapped, restless and Soichiro clutched the watch in his hand. “That you just believe whatever they tell you?”

“There’s part of the Death Note –“

“How do you even know?” Light asked, softening his voice and Soichiro knew there was a point there.

There was no way to prove this was what he thought it was without writing a name.

“Mom, please, listen to me,” Light started, his voice with that same softness and she looked at him. “Dad is ill, he has been for a long time. All of this, it’s a game for people like Near and Mello. Whatever they’re showing you, they’ve been able to access and could set anything up.”

“We have full footage of the search if you care to watch it,” the man who had come said without inflection. “We are more than happy to share it.”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I think I need to see it. I just –“

“It’s alright,” the guard continued. “We understand.”

“And this thing, it’s tied to the book I’ve been told about?”

“We believe so.”

“Is there a way to know?”

He and Soichiro exchanged glances.

“We would have to use it to kill someone to know for sure,” he told her quietly and she closed her eyes, nodding.

“So, then he can still claim he is framed.” She swallowed and Soichiro understood how much she wanted to believe their son.

“Mom, don’t let them use you.” Light’s attention shifted to him, angry. “Why did you do this to her?”

Not being able to answer he stared at the floor when an idea came to him but he was uncertain if it was crueler than everything else he had put her through.

“There is another way,” he said, voice strained, as the man had started to move away. “Beautiful, they told you I made a deal, did they not?”

“Yes, with – with a Shinigami.” Her face twisted, uncertain, a look as if she still believed they were all insane and he didn’t blame her.

If it hadn’t been for her trust in him, in his men, Near’s words would have been just a story to her. He wouldn’t be surprised that she still leaned that way, wanting anything to prove that they were wrong and Light was who she thought he was.

“All of Near’s men have touched this book in order to see and track Ryuk. But you haven’t been exposed yet.”

“It’s here?”

“Yes. As the owner, it stays close to me.”

“Technically, within fourteen miles, but I’m supposed to be in the same building most of the time, or at least the general area,” Ryuk offered when Soichiro glanced over. “I do give privacy. Some things I just don’t want to see or have an interest in.”

“If I touch it – “ her voice faltered and she clung to his hand.

Near was calculating, he had proven that and Soichiro would not put it past him to have set all of this up. But he couldn’t despise Near for it. They needed answers and the most basic, simple answer was that Light had altered his watch to always carry a piece of this thing. He hated that this was the way to prove it, to help end Light’s tangle of lies he had draped over all of them throughout the years, thinking of L dying needlessly in the arms of his murderer.

“They still had access to the book,” Light said, the stress beginning to show as the man who had brought the evidence came over to them. “Near could have easily done many things.”

“It’s keyed to Aizawa, Near can’t open it.”

“So he claims.”

Soichiro shook his head, knowing Light would continue to tear apart any words that came as the bag was opened, the man taking out the slip. Closing her eyes, Sachiko was trembling as she nodded and her hand was touched as she clung to his shirt.

“He’s over by the door. He can’t hurt you.”

Slowly, she raised her head, Light staring as her eyes opened and a loud, low sound escaped her, a mix of surprise and fear.

“Forgive me,” Soichiro whispered as her hands clutched at him to the point her knuckles whitened. “I would have done anything to spare you from knowing about any of this.”

“Can you tell me what it looks like?” the man asked her and she swallowed repeatedly.

“Black hair, yellow eyes, white skin,” she got out, never taking her eyes from Ryuk and the man cast a look at Light who was pale but Soichiro didn’t put it past him to not be thinking of his next rebuttal to what had just happened.

“Thank you,” the man said and departed, Sachiko trying to get herself under control and unable to.

“What did you do to him?” she asked Ryuk as Soichiro held her close to him.

To his credit, Ryuk was neutral, his voice even when he said, “Kira found the book and all of his choices were his own.”

She buried her face in Soichiro’s shoulder and he stroked her hair, watching Light who for a moment looked as lost as he felt before that washed away and all he got was anger. But Light stayed silent, Soichiro felt he could see his son brimming with reprimands over this but keeping them at bay as it wouldn’t help his cause to lose his head.

Instead, Light was cold, as though regretting letting any of them live.

“You’ve doubted me all this time, haven’t you?” Light finally asked, quiet, his face hard. “Even after the rules, what that Shinigami did in front of you, I was never innocent enough for you.”

Soichiro was surprised when he was able to find his voice, “There were always things that never fit anywhere else but other than with your guilt, no matter how small.”

Light clenched his jaw, turning his face away, refusing to see them.

Was it that visit when he was convinced I was replacing him, his animosity spurred on by my asking for the picture of Misa that finally drove him to find a surrogate to continue this confusion? Did he ever feel anguish at the idea of ending my life, or simply at the loss of my use to him?

When Sachiko was quieter, he got her to stand to take her away from this, hearing Light whisper fool to his back.

They had shown him into a well-appointed room with small slices of light from thin windows slotted up by where the wall met the ceiling, allowing some natural warmth along the forever buzzing fluorescents that had become his world. It was what he had asked for. Quiet, away from the claustrophobia of where he was kept here with his wife and daughter, Sachiko barely holding together after watching the footage of Light’s apprehension and search and seeing that it was doubtful anything was placed on their son.

Now, his wife was sitting with Sayu trying to coax her to lie down and he had to find a way to tell her what he planned to do soon. People were still dying and until the rules were laid to rest, the questions would keep sliding beneath the surface wanting to offer hope when there was none.

All the lies left no other way to be sure before the end was decided.

A man had brought him tea and food and told him if he had need of anything, to let them know. Soichiro recognized him as the one that typically stood the closest to Near, the one who had taken them to Light’s cell, but their faces were still covered and names had long since ceased to be important to him.

How was he going to do this – tell his wife he may still die at the hands of their son to reveal the truth?

We always accepted this case might kill us, but it is one thing to die in the line of duty. She will be left in the aftermath and Sayu, even if she remains in the dark about her brother, will have lost half of her family without ever understanding why.

It could be argued that it’s obvious that the rules are false, but perhaps they aren’t and Light found another loophole, like the one he currently uses while still being Kira. 

Mello could just be using all of us because he just wants to win his little game, to prove he’s better than Near. It shouldn’t be a game, but at least for Mello, I think it is. Blatant lying to mislead, it’s something he would do. He’s proven that much.

Ryuk - we don't know Ryuk or if the Shinigami overtly lie. The other at least misled us about its intentions. Ryuk may be playing everyone in order to simply sow chaos and havoc.

What if I’m just wrong in general and all the things we think we see are actually false and he’s right, driven closer to insanity because he keeps being accused? If I’m just allowing my paranoia and distaste over his character to sentence him so severely, letting little lies, and easily arranged signs of guilt color my vision?

Footsteps and he waited for them to come closer but they seemed to stop at the door. Looking over he was surprised to see that it was the lone woman of Near’s forces that he had seen, her face covered like the rest. Her blonde hair fanned over her shoulders and he got the sense she was apprehensive.

“Yes?” he asked, trying to keep his voice gentle. “What is it?”

“I don’t wish to disturb you. I have a question.” She walked in further, regaining some of her confidence and Soichiro wondered if it was because he finally looked non-threatening.

If anything, it was a welcome distraction from the conversation he was avoiding as he motioned toward the chair near him.

“I will answer it if I can. What is it about?”

“The Yotsuba investigation.”

He couldn’t hide his surprise as she sat, back straight, towards the front edge of the seat as though she was planning on taking flight as soon as possible. Her hands resting on her knees, feet squarely on the floor and he didn’t miss she showed all the signs of high-level training.

“That was a long time ago.”

Unwanted thoughts of all the deaths that followed in the wake of L’s death and that group – the rest of the board dying, Wedy, Aibner, Light’s verdict that the news could no longer broadcast the names of criminals which only seemed to enhance Kira’s activities.

Because he gained access to secure databases by lying to us all and taking up the mantle of L. We gave him the keys to make his career as this monster less taxing.

Soichiro banished the thoughts, his body weary, ready to simply cease to be as the nightmare of his son became clearer by the hour. Belatedly, he realized she may have approached him now as Ryuk had complained of his sullen silence and had wandered off to go amuse himself, somehow.

“How did Higuchi Kyosuke die?”

Soichiro frowned, uncertain of what she wanted.

“He was killed by the original Kira during his arrest,” he said, voice tight. It was too fresh after being shown the discovery in Light’s watch, that creature, the helicopter with L and Light together as they cuffed Higuchi who was blathering like the weak man he was. It felt loud in his head, memories of that night, not understanding what Light had done and why he had done it.

To his surprise, she raised up a hand and took off her covering, her face pale but not judgmental. She was young – why were they all so young as they dredged along to stop the evil that grew from his own home?

“Why?” The word was clear but there was an emotion underlying it, soft and almost unrecognized.

“He killed someone close to you.”

“To an extent,” she allowed, watching him and he understood she knew he wouldn’t kill her or share her name that was clear to him as well as her life. Halle Bullook had not been granted a long life, if his hasty conversion was right, she would die before fifty but it was not something he felt he should share with her.

“He was Kira, the active one at the time. When my son was taken into custody the first time, he must have given his book to a Shinigami who found someone willing to continue and then lost his memories.” Soichiro blanched, hating how this was the truth, the cold facts, especially in light of what he had been able to get out of Ryuk about book ownership. “We found the Death Note in the car with Higuchi and the name of the officer he had just killed in it, in his handwriting. Light could regain his memories if he touched a Death Note again but could only keep them without constant contact if he regained ownership.”

“Which happened that night.”

“Yes.” Soichiro cleared his throat trying to push Light’s watch out of his mind.

“In front of you.”

Soichiro clenched his jaw, meeting her eyes. “What is it that you want from me?”

“There is only –“

“I watched while he had seven, then six after one was murdered, of his co-workers met in a room to discuss who to kill to increase profits.” His voice wasn’t loud, it was cold, the anger in him getting the best of him. Foolish child. “And we managed to delay the next set of deaths because L said we couldn’t just use the tapes because as bad as it looked, none of the people mentioned had actually died yet. And he was right so we used Matsuda as living bait in the end after Higuchi confessed to Amane and talked to a Rem in his car that we would later meet as a Shinigami.”

She blanched and he made himself relax.

“I apologize,” he said after a minute when he was sure that he could keep his voice in check. “I know the main evidence is gone and the rest is just our testimony. I’m not sure if the extras Wedy gave me of the video footage still exist now.”

“Light had access to them?”

“Eventually.” He sighed, shifting, trying to be comfortable in his own skin and failing. “I believe Watari was told to wipe the databases to preserve both L’s allies and to take away anything Light could use. Wedy was not supposed to have kept copies but she did and shortly before she died she turned them over to me.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“I didn’t think it overly important at the time. The entire investigation was in transition and he was taking over as L under the guise that the world shouldn’t know of the death.” It was such a brittle excuse, Soichiro rubbed his face, resisting the urge to get up and pace, knowing it would just cause him pain. Instead, he kneaded his thigh, trying to get out the never-ending restlessness and strain. “My men wouldn’t have been able to access anything like that before Light’s arrest for Near but if they still exist, I’m more than happy to let you watch them.”

She nodded, her mouth tight and he knew she believed him.

I wish I could tell you something different. I wish a whole lot was different right now.

“Mello stayed with me after his encounter with you,” she said and he just stared. “Near is aware. It wasn’t just the extent of his injuries that made him bitter, but he was convinced more each day that you weren’t willingly working for Kira like he first assumed. When we became aware you had survived, he started to become obsessed with the idea of telling you the truth to see what you would do.”

“I always assumed the note was from him,” he started but she shook her head.

“At the time, he felt it was too dangerous. I provided the cover for Matt to bring it to you. Mello was livid but it provided what we needed.”

“You bugged my room, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and we heard you talk to someone that we couldn’t hear a few times after that. Mello conjectured there was a Shinigami with you and that you felt unable to trust it, further destabilizing the notion that you or your men were part of Kira’s forces in any way. During the rest of your stay, you never told anyone of the note or of Matt’s true name. Given that the current L allowed you to make the trade you did for your daughter and his apparent involvement as Kira, Mello came to the conclusion that your son was both Kira and the second L. It was a conclusion Near was coming to on his own.”

Soichiro nodded, it was all he could do, thinking of Matsuda trying to sacrifice himself for Light after Sayu was taken and Mello wanted a name or he’d start killing.

“And it was by any means necessary, wasn’t it, to get this information?” His voice was sharp but to her credit, she dropped her gaze for a moment. “Your friend died via one of the Kira’s so whoever you hurt along the way, whoever died, it was justifiable as long as you got your answer in the end.”

“I –“

“How many people died once Mello got that book?” he asked, cutting her off. “How many people would still be alive, some who were probably good people, did you allow to die because I could not leave my daughter to die?” Taking a breath he tried to find calm but couldn’t. “I hate myself for all the death that I allowed for her life. Do you even care what you’ve allowed?”

“Yes. He would have done it with or without my sanction.”

“That doesn’t make your silent consent any easier to accept. Implicit permission is still permission. It’s no different than my son in the end, murdering to get what he wants –“ he swallowed, stomach-churning again and he made himself stare at the wall because he couldn’t keep looking at her.

Silent, she put her mask back on and stood, walking away before she stopped a few feet by the door.

“Mello never had any intention of hurting you that night.”

Soichiro grimaced, shaking his head a little. “He already did that when he took my daughter. She’s still recovering, her entire life shattered. She’ll never be the same. If he wants to apologize or protest innocence to someone, it should be her. She has never had anything to do with this but she will bear the brunt of the aftermath.”

He couldn’t see most of her face anymore but he felt she was upset, her eyes drifting a little before they refocused on him, and he wondered how she justified Mello’s violence to herself.

“He said you were either the bravest person he had met, or the stupidest. I would say the former.”

She was gone and he pressed his fist against his mouth, willing back the idea of revisiting the sparse breakfast Sachiko had cajoled him to eat. Taking care of him, of Sayu, it was her only distraction and he allowed it because one of them needed to not think about this for a while.

It was cold comfort that Near had probably suffered under Mello instead of willingly engaging in these schemes as Ryuk wandered back in.

“You aren’t supposed to look worse,” the Shinigami complained to him. “I leave for an hour or two and you look like you’re about to hurl all over the gross upholstery.”

“Would that actually bother you?”

Ryuk shrugged, lazy but Soichiro didn’t miss how the creature watched him. “What happened? Don’t think it was just you sitting in here thinking.”

“Bad conversation, that’s all. But it’s over now.”

He managed to pry himself out of his chair, stiff and tense, swaying slightly before Ryuk steadied him and he got his cane more firmly planted.

“Woah, there, So-chi. I don’t want to sit in any more hospitals.”

“Of course, I wasn’t being thoughtful.”

Ryuk grinned widely. “At least you haven’t lost that spirit.”

So many times he had wanted to ask Ryuk why Light had done any of this but he couldn’t find a way to form the words.

Not that I want the answer, that it was just power, the ability to kill without getting near someone, to have to participate. That Light thought somehow this would work, this fragile notion that took so little to pull down in the end. It was only the power and respect he was granted that he ruthlessly took advantage of that made it last even this long.

The stiffness wasn’t dissipating as he limped towards the door, Ryuk giving him looks of actual concern. He was no closer to having found what he wanted to say to his wife, what he would tell his daughter about any of this. People were still dying daily. As much as they tried, his impression was that they were having difficulty both getting documentation from places like Sakura that ran Kira’s Kingdom and pinpointing who Light would trust to operate in his place when it became apparent that there were problems brewing.

And the idea that Light had destroyed documentation, hidden all the traces and trails of who currently owned the book was haunting him more and more.

If I was him and needed to pick someone, I would make sure all the ways to find the person I picked would be gone. And Light had access to so many things. With his skills, it would have been simple to ensure us finding his accomplice would be that much harder, even if he couldn’t access everything, he could do enough to obscure it.

Leaning against the wall in the hallway, he wanted to just stop.

“She’ll be worried if you don’t go back.” Ryuk was beside him and he looked up at that face and wondered what the creature thought if he was still being entertained. “And I don’t want to see her angry. She looks like she throws things.”

“I would think you immune.”

“That’s not the point.” Ryuk made a small sound, petulant. “It messes with my concentration. How can I watch TV or eat when she’s doing that?”

Is he trying to make me feel better?

“It’s best to just apologize,” he told the Shinigami as he made himself move forward. “If she gets upset, just apologize and figure out what you did so you can be truly sorry later.”

Ryuk actually laughed. “Is this how you survived marriage?”

“Not exactly, but just fighting never solved anything and it’s hard to think when you’re too busy yelling.”

“Mhm, sage advice. I think I learn more from you than sitting in all those classrooms.”

“Did – did you go to school with him?” It wasn’t something he had thought of but it was mildly amusing to him that a being that had been around for so long had to endure stale lectures.

“You weren’t missing anything. Seriously. And he’d get pissy if I said something like he was paying attention.”

Soichiro smiled slightly despite himself, thinking of his pompous son already having everything sorted while keeping up appearances. “So, you spent your time annoying him?”

A huff and it was a clear yes from the noise alone.

How did he even balance everything? I was already worried about his school and responsibilities as L. Little did I know he had a whole other life on top of it. He had no friends, we barely saw him, and the only time he was around people was at school and that was probably spent mostly being upset over Ryuk being Ryuk and making sure his work was done. Why didn’t I step in then, ask him about it instead of just ignoring it like it was what he always was? Was he always so alone that he forgot he was human?

“I changed my mind. Maybe you falling would get you to stop thinking,” Ryuk complained and Soichiro sighed.

“Then I would just be thinking about falling. And about whether to cut off your apple supply.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Chancing a glance over he couldn’t help the startled little laugh that came out of him at the horrified expression Ryuk had over the sheer suggestion.

“I wouldn’t. How did you even get – he gave you one,” Soichiro said slowly, watching Ryuk try to suppress his amusement. “He gave you an apple so you’d stop talking.”

“You make it sound cold.”

Shaking his head he realized he had walked all the way back to his room barely noticing the rest of the trip with the Shinigami as the door opened.

“I’ve been worried,” Sachiko murmured to him, and any morbid mirth he had been able to gain vanished with the conversation ahead they had to have.

“I didn’t mean to be gone so long,” he answered, letting her help him inside, Ryuk drifting away in search of his next apple.

“Does all this have to be in such a rush?” she asked him and he didn’t know how to respond as she turned away, walking towards the little table in their room, shaking. “Or a rush to me? All of you have had months, maybe years, to come to terms with this. I’ve had hours, a couple of days.”

Sachiko was angry and he regretted not trying to tell her, at least, when Light was confined the first time. Then, he had believed in his son’s innocence to an extent despite the unnerving questions still being asked, of Misa, of the subtle changes Light displayed. But, he still would have been able to stand behind his son, protest his innocence.

Maybe, as the years went by, he could have talked to her –

No, I don’t think I ever would have been able to tell her about my misgivings after he was cleared then cleared again when we learned of the rules.

Her back was to him and he tried to compose himself, keep his voice even and reasonable, and all the things he didn’t feel at this moment.

“There are many people still dying every day. I know that most are not good people but that doesn’t mean we should leave them to die.” He swallowed, his body trembling as he leaned on his cane. “Kira’s poison sinks in more and this may draw them out and knowing, one way or the other, will at least lay this to rest.”

Prove whether Light could ever be guilty, he wanted to add but could not. Perhaps without his lies to hold his mask, he’ll tell us something.

“And the person all of you mean to kill, they will be already close to death?”

“Yes. Near has also been tracking down men who not only have not done anything terribly wrong to deserve their fate but ones that are held in inhumane conditions –“

“So it is more merciful.” Her voice was thin, and her shoulders shook. “I want to say that shouldn’t make it better.”

“I know.”

“Will you be the one who does this?”

“No. Just in case –“

“So, there’s still a chance that it is the truth? That he is telling the truth?”

The hope in her voice was shattering and Soichiro stared up into the corner, unable to speak for a moment.

“There is always a chance we have been lied to. It’s why, after all these years, it is felt that this needs to move forward because we need to be sure once and for all.”

All of this, over the years, had been easier when he was still working. He had been away from home, making decisions without her, telling himself it was for the greater good, for their good, ignoring the consequences of the outcomes. He had not been around them enough to know.

Standing here with her, seeing what this attitude had wrought, he struggled to remain in front of her.

What I’ve put you through. Not only that raid but years before, when I left you without a word in the hospital, no explanation, to get those tapes and stop that broadcast, not caring if I survived, only that it stopped. And you had been there trying to make sure you didn’t have to mourn me yet. I left you unaware and unprepared for any of this.

If you’ve found out the things I’ve done, I don’t think you’ll remain, Sachiko.

“I –“ she didn’t finish, hand resting against the table edge and he was uncertain if he should go to her, knowing that he had to tell her the rest. Her voice a whisper, “He was a good boy.”

“He was.”

Was he? When did he stop? What did we – he made himself stop thinking because these were terrible thoughts.

Light, when he was little, was a good boy as he remembered things despite struggling not to. Light had been a good boy.

When did all of this change?

“Sachiko,” he said, voice not as controlled as he would have liked. “There – there may be a possibility that something has been set up so that it looks like it’s true, or true for what he assumes will happen, what I would do –“

Her shoulders went rigid and he stopped his rambling unable to get out the delicate, short words to say that his son had not only sent someone to go murder in his name but that he was on that list at least under the right conditions.

“That he would –“ she choked, trying to breathe. “Why now? He could have killed you before now.”

“It didn’t rest on saving himself before.”

It was a bitter truth but when he went to her she pulled away, face twisted up in grief as she took a step back and it felt like the little that was left of him splintered into nothing.

“Not only is he a murderer with a magical book but you claim he will do this?” she demanded, arms wrapped around herself.

“I’m so sorry.”

Why had she been told? She should have never had to know of any of this. Pick up after we are dead, yes, but still, it would have been better than this.

“Aizawa was with them when they came to collect us,” she said, watching him. “I thought, at first, that something had happened to you but they told us it was to protect us and I went. I went because I knew him and he told me you were alright, that it was a precaution.”

“Sachiko –“

“Then they brought us here and Aizawa was upset," she cut him off, her voice with a hard edge, "and I knew immediately that something was wrong. I had told him that you had been bothered, and restless, that I knew you were carrying something and I demanded to know what was going on. Why did they all cover their faces? They took me to a small man who asked if you talked to me about your work.

“Like a fool, I said yes, that you did, that it was the only way I had to help you.”

“You didn’t know,” he told her, lost as to what to say.

“Because you left me blind!”

Soichiro had to stop looking at her, her voice loud and hurt, his eyes going to the floor, the bed, the table, the small scuff on the wall, anywhere that wasn’t her, and the anger that he had abandoned her to this.

“He told me this whole story. It was near unbelievable, what he said, what your men had told him. That you had set up our son, believed,” she shook her head, swallowing a few times and he knew she was weeping all over again. “That was bad enough, that you thought him guilty. But I still thought, ‘There doesn’t seem to be direct proof. No one has seen him do this.’

“Even sitting in front of him, thinking of how guilty he looked, I wanted to believe we’ve been wrong, that this fanciful story I’ve been told, of what you did to yourself, was all just confusion. Then you had me see that thing.”

A long, ragged sob and he saw her still watching him, her face a mess of tears and pain but she still stepped away from him when he tried to move closer.

“You lied to me for so long. That thing was in our home, near us, and you didn’t say a word.”

“I –“

“No. Not only did you give away half your life as though it meant nothing but you didn’t tell us that this thing was with us constantly.” She inhaled noisily, looking at him squarely. “You were so strange, sometimes. I know now you were listening to it talk. The little happenings here and there, things moved or missing. I thought it stress, worried my mind was slipping.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no way to tell –“

“You could have tried,” she snapped, her face still pained. “Why? Why did you sell yourself? Was there no other that could have made the deal? Surely, any one of them would have done so in your place.”

“I had to get the book. I was the one who gave it to Mello.” He tried to come closer but the way she held herself kept him back.

“For Sayu.” Her voice was a whisper, eyes slipping closed for a moment as she trembled.

“I couldn’t leave her. Not like that, but I had to get it back. I don’t know how many he killed with it, what he did.”

“So, it didn’t matter if you came home, just as long you saved everyone else.”

“No. I just – I was getting calls from him, threats, endangering everyone around me. My being alive made everything worse. It was an opportunity to correct all of this.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Did you think I didn’t notice?”

“Sachiko –“

“Don’t,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You seem to think either Sayu or I incapable of coping. I don’t know what you thought we would do without you, what we will do when you die that much sooner. She blames herself. She remembers your heart attack, she worries the stress will harm you. It’s why she worries over you so.”

“I’m so sorry,” was all he could get out, at a loss for words, thinking of Sayu busy fretting over him since the moment she got to his bedside.

No, it was even before that. She was so curled in on herself, but she would still watch when I picked at my food, her eyes big as I made up a lie and tried not to flinch every time the phone rang.

“Now, you want me to condone your death in this new scheme.”

“Sachiko, if Light told my name to someone, my time is very limited already. Eventually, given my former position, my relation to the task force, that I’m a direct threat to Kira, if he’s guilty and set up this plan, his conspirator may just write it down anyways, regardless.”

“Then what do I do?” she asked, taking another step back, despairing and trapped. “What do I do then when you’re right and you’re dead and my son is a murderer? Tell me, Soichiro, what the hell do I do then?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “You won’t be abandoned. None of my men will abandon you –“

“You’ll be in the ground! Sayu – she’s not going to survive this. She won’t survive losing you like this, and her brother –“

The next sound Sachiko made drove deep into him, straight to the bone and he grabbed her, leg be damned, and got her to the bed before she fully collapsed, landing on the side of it. Helpless, she hit his chest with her fists, her sobbing wracking her as he held her close to him.

“He’s a good boy,” she kept whispering to him. “He was such a good boy.”

Chapter Text

Sachiko could barely look at him.

This in and of itself was not surprising. It was an outcome he had been dreading if not expecting for some time now. The true hardship was that she still stayed and most likely would see the end of this. A part of him feared that she would continue to stay even after, seeing him as her responsibility and the taste was bitter, acrid, like smoke in his mouth from everything Light had burned to ash.

His hand trembled and he leaned against the wall of the hallway for a moment. His tie was already off, shirt collar open and he felt a fine sweat from pain coating his skin. Senseless walking – he had begun this an hour ago perhaps longer when he hadn’t been able to sit there with her anymore knowing he had torn out her heart and trapped her with him.

“There you are.”

Starting, Soichiro glanced over, having expected Ryuk but got Aizawa instead.

“I’m alright,” he answered, listless and giving very little reassurance that he actually was. “What is it?”

Aizawa frowned, looking as though he was cross but minding his words, shuffling one foot against the other as he came to lean up against the wall in front of him.

Soichiro despised that Aizawa looked so put together despite the fatigue that was wearing fine lines into his face.

“The Shinigami came by, complaining that you were wandering –“

Soichiro’s sigh cut him off and he just managed to stop from making any derisive comments about that.

“Of course it would,” Soichiro muttered, shaking his head, feeling sweat slip down his back as his pain intensified more. This was the rest of his life, feeling this, and it felt deserved. “He’s worried about sitting in a hospital again.”

“He’s not wrong.”

“Is there something you wanted?”

Aizawa crossed his arms as he leaned more fully against the wall and Soichiro knew it was to block his progress from just walking away. Stepping away from the wall right now felt like a risk, and while he could turn, it would be a slow, laborious process, his mind conjuring up an image of an arthritic elephant from a documentary he and Sayu had watched recently because animals were not included in the realm of his gift.

He felt disgusted with himself.

“She doesn’t know what to do.”

Soichiro shook his head, knowing now that Aizawa had stopped by his room to check if he was there and had met Sachiko.

“You know what I did to her – she lost all ignorance because of me.”

Aizawa stiffened. “If I had known that Near planned to tell either of them, I would have done this differently, not risked them being brought here –“

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t want them alone.” Soichiro tried not to think about how he had taken their car, trapping them out there, afraid for hours that he was dead or had lost his mind.

His hand tightened on his cane, the varnish smooth under his palm and he wished it wasn't.

“What she knew – the only way to protect her from his lies was to let her see –“

Soichiro raised his free hand, cutting the man off.

If I just stop talking would he leave? I doubt I would be that lucky.

“She never should have known about any of this. I would rather her think he was dead over this.”

The idea of going home, mourning Light with her was a nightmare all its own, the idea of her not knowing, speaking of their son as if he was a hero instead of what he was while he sat with the knowledge that Light had been executed for his crimes.

When they take him, when he’s gone, she’ll never overcome this. She barely got past the loss all those years ago and there is nothing to soften the one that is coming. It is ugly, there are no pretty words to ease her suffering.

“She worries over you.”

Sochiro shook his head again, wishing the man would leave. She worried because he was her husband, she was responsible, a distraction from the truth all around them, Sayu still in the dark with endless questions and her belief in Light dragging them both down.

He couldn’t stand here anymore and he tried to move forward, his leg seizing, unable to get it to move for a moment, pain like a wildfire up that side of his body. It was real, it was grounding in a way that the rest of this hell wasn’t and despite his grimace, he welcomed it. The price of his failures. That he could not kill Mello, left them to this, Light plotting and then –

“Chief, let me –“

“Don’t call me that.” The words were out before he could stop them but he didn’t regret them. “I’m not that, haven’t been for months now.”

It was inappropriate to have that title, it never should have been his, to begin with.

“Stop doing this to yourself.”

“I’m fine, Aizawa. Leave me.”

“No.”

The word was harsh, Aizawa looking as though he had become an immovable wall, and given Soichiro’s state, there was little difference between the two. He forced himself to raise his head all the way but he saw worry instead of disgust on his officer's face.

“I’m going to get a chair. Don’t try to go anywhere.”

With those short words, Aizawa spun on his heel and marched off down the hall, going into the first empty room he came upon and Soichiro couldn’t help but lean against the wall more. If he moved, he would just have that pain again and a part of him wanted to force each step to feel it.

It was only a few moments before Aizawa was returning, carrying a chair and putting it behind him. Hands on his shoulders and Soichiro managed to convince his body to bend, for muscles to work and he sat, the strain lifting even as another flash of pain went through him.

How long have I been out here to feel this bad?

“Do you have pain medicine?”

“At home…” his words trailed off. She might have taken it with her, she might not have. It was something he rarely took and it didn’t matter.

“Stay,” Aizawa barked and Soichiro couldn’t help but bristle at the order.

Glancing back, he caught sight of Aizawa disappearing with long strides around a corner, his shoes clipping along the tiled floor. Soichiro couldn’t relax, letting his shoulders slump, wondering if Ryuk would make an appearance next.

I wish that creature was lying. I wish all of this was a machination of its mind and that Light was truly innocent. It would be easier, despite what he’s been through. But I can’t believe that. Ryuk’s reluctant to answer but it doesn’t appear that he lies. I –

His thoughts were cut off when he heard multiple sets of footsteps, a low murmur of voices that were not far away. He became aware that he was chilled, a combination of a loss of movement and the sweat he had caused still standing on his skin.

A small hand on his neck and he knew who it was without turning.

“You’re soaked,” he heard her murmur and he made himself not close his eyes.

“I’m alright –“

“Don’t lie,” Sachiko told him, walking around to the front of him and he forced his head up, seeing the worry there. She was holding a glass of water and a bottle. “You’ve been gone for a while, I didn’t realize –“

Her thoughts trailed off and he hated her distress.

“I’ll go see if I can find something to help you get back.”

Aizawa was leaving and it was just him and his wife in this empty corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly behind her in its shades of white. She stood in stark contrast, her dark hair not kept as neatly as she normally had it, and her small frame dressed in deep browns seemed frailer than it should. Her face showed her exhaustion, her eyes still red as though she had never stopped crying despite Soichiro coming to realize that he had been gone for some time.

She gave him the water and he steadied his hand with his other, leaning the cane against the wall. The flash of concern wasn’t something that he missed as she worked the bottle open.

She simply put the pills in his mouth and helped him to drink, Soichiro disliking how his body trembled, how far it was from what it had once been.

Taking the glass from him, she put it down against the wall on the floor and stepped forward more, brushing the hair from his face. She didn’t attempt a smile, there really was nothing to be done about anything except to wait.

“I don’t know what to do.” Sachiko’s voice was a whisper and he wasn’t sure if he should touch her. “I’ve spent all these years fearing the worst, that you wouldn’t come home and now – now you could –“

Her thoughts were cut off but it was obvious all the same where they were going.

“None of this is your fault. None of it.”

She pressed her face against his hair and he didn’t miss how she shook.

“I hate what the answer is. I hate that even if I forbid you from doing what is planned, you may still die from this thing.”

Reaching up, he pulled her closer, his body a fine line of tension and pain but she came, fingers in his hair curling and she clutched at him.

“I love you. No matter how angry I am with you, I still love you.”

They waited like this for Aizawa to return, the hall as quiet as death.

Waking, he was confused and slightly alarmed by the murmuring of voices by him, his reactions slower due to the pain medicine he had agreed to take last night due to the cajoling of multiple parties. Now, he felt sluggish, unused to such deep sleep, his eyes sticky as he worked them open, finding Sachiko sitting in bed beside him, a low-watt lamp on in the room. Another moment and he recognized Ryuk’s low rumble of a voice, telling her something as his mind began to become more functional.

“Ssh, we didn’t mean to wake you,” she told him, concerned, and he shook his head, pushing himself up a bit more. “I asked him to come.”

That was slightly better than the other alternatives he was imagining and he was surprised how much calmer she looked compared to when he had laid beside her hours ago.

Not that he didn’t blame Ryuk, only that he had an understanding now that Ryuk was simply not human and could not be expected to behave in accordance with their morals. He had no real want to know of the Shinigami society or concern for his kind and it was a bitter truth to acknowledge that monsters that relied on human death to survive would see them vastly different, no matter how obvious it was.

Eventually, he was able to make out the clock and see how late it was getting.

“I’m sure they’ll wish to start soon,” he told her and she nodded, mouth drawn tight.

While not as stiff as he had been, the first time he stood every day was typically the most painful and he doubted this would be the exception after last night, leaning on his cane for a moment before taking himself to the bathroom. The face that greeted him in the mirror between his blinks from the overly bright light was less worn but still pale, cheeks with a look that they were sunken.

Relieving himself, he cleaned up his face, cleared away the stubble, and smoothed back his hair, not wanting to struggle through a shower and doubting he had the time to anyways. She joined him part of the way through, and when he left the bathroom, Ryuk was gone.

He always feared for Sayu when he couldn’t see the creature despite that she was one room over. They had been discussing having her moved to Eriko and her children, Aizawa siding with this choice. Sayu, however, despite everything she had been through stubbornly resisted, wanting to be here with them.

Soichiro did understand as he got dressed, Sachiko helping him with his shoes. She had already lost so much, he did not doubt that she had a fear that if she left her parents, they would cease to exist on her.

When Sachiko was dressed, they left, finding Sayu’s door open. She was seated at her little table, Roger Ruvie sitting with her, his voice carrying as he made her laugh over something. It was a pleasing sight, to see her like this as she stood and hugged him, a habit she had developed of late.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Better.”

“He finally slept,” Sachiko told her as Ruvie stood.

“I’ll get out of your hair.”

“He was telling me about the children he’s watched over at the orphanage he helped to run,” Sayu told them in Japanese before turning to Ruvie and saying in English, “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Ruvie took his leave and he smiled at his daughter as he took a seat at her table, noticing the amount of food and knowing that it would be assumed they would come to eat with her.

“Anything interesting?” he asked, pouring coffee for him and Sachiko as Sayu rolled her eyes.

“Dad. It was innocent stuff. The ways they would get in trouble. I can’t imagine watching over that many even if he didn’t do it alone. I mean, most seemed pretty innocent,” she paused, something sad and he didn’t doubt she hadn’t reflected on the loss of these children. “Those that acted out, I can’t imagine what they’ve been through.”

“I worked with a man that grew up there,” he told her, uncertain how much he could tell but L had been gone a good five years. Surely something was allowed.

“Really?” Sayu leaned forward and he was amazed by how lively she was right now. It was a testament to Ruvie’s kindness that she could be in a place such as this. “What was he like?”

“Strange,” he said and both women laughed, Sachiko giving him a small frown at that descriptor. “He liked to sit with his knees all the way up to his chest and despised shoes. I almost never saw him eat anything that wasn’t sugar, and in those rare times it was either tea with a lot of sugar or those little creamers.” He smiled despite himself, thinking of L’s face at his storytelling. “He was also absolutely brilliant.”

“Matsuda-san’s friend?” She asked and he nodded, seeing her smile a little. “Did he have dark, wild hair?”

“Yes,” Soichiro answered, not hiding his surprise.

“Ruvie-san said he was a handful because he would plot pranks. Nothing mean, but if he was left without anything to hold his attention, he often got himself into trouble when he was a kid.”

It seemed like the type of mischief L would get himself into in order to stay occupied and Soichiro smiled.

He and Sachiko ate while Sayu chattered on about the children Ruvie had helped rear and when she mentioned one liked to do blank all-white puzzles, Sayu’s face crinkling at the mere thought of it, his mind drifted to Near for unexplained reasons. He wondered what it had been like, to be raised in L’s shadow and he doubted Ruvie was the one who devised the system from what he had seen.

Despite what was to come today, he held onto this little moment, managing to push Light to the corners of his mind for even a few minutes.

Near had selected a man from the earlier photos and Soichiro had been summoned so they could finally put a good portion of this case to rest.

Ryuk drifted along behind him and Soichiro didn’t miss how quiet he was today or that he stayed a good ways away from his family outside of speaking to his wife at her request earlier. It was behavior he didn’t understand because Ryuk was not shy and he doubted he cared about Sachiko being able to see him now. A good portion of him wanted to ask just what they had been talking about but held it in as they rejoined Near in the room he had been brought to before. Near was sitting in a chair playing with what appeared to be finger puppets, one of his legs drawn up the same as it had been on their first visit which made him think of L. All of the people outside of his own men that were trickling in, had their faces covered.

“We have a feed of the cell now,” Near told him and waved at the monitors.

What he saw sickened him. A man, young, with rags for clothes that were as dirty as he was, festering wounds on his arms that promised possible amputation in the future if his death wasn’t already guaranteed. The room he was held in was filthy. Soichiro doubted there was a way for a human to relieve himself, at least in a sanitary fashion or a place to rest that wasn’t crusted over and soiled by something bacteria-laden.

“He was moved here both due to his status and because he was viewed as a threat to the morality of his fellow prisoners,” Near continued as they watched.

“What did he do?” Mogi asked

“He made the mistake of liking men,” Near answered, voice tighter even as it remained near toneless. “A former solider who was stripped of his rank. He is one of the most egregious cases as there was a good deal of admiration for him. I believe they hate him for that.”

“For being brave,” Soichiro said quietly and got a nod before Near motioned to a man who appeared perhaps middle age with graying hair around the edges of his mask. He was tall, dressed in a simple brown suit without a tie, quiet, hands clasped in front of him.

“This is Mr. K. He will be the one writing in the book to both relieve the burden from Yagami-san and to create a safety net in case the worst happens. We have it written up for you to read.”

Mr. K walked to them, handing them the paper and they all crowded around. Everything seemed to be in order, a painless death, though Soichiro hated what they would ask this suffering human to do. The troubling phrase that would need to be uttered in order to cue whoever Light had found.

“Why do we have to make him say this?” Matsuda asked.

“It’s the only way we can make sure whoever is out there pretending to be Kira knows when this is leaked,” Ide explained to him, Soichiro feeling as Matsuda looked over that news.

“In case Light told someone to kill the Chief.” Matsuda’s voice was quiet, and Soichiro nodded, trying to feel at peace with his possible death. “I dislike this.”

“So do I. Especially making some poor miserable soul say this before he dies,” Aizawa said, handing the paper back to Mr. K.

“Four hours,” Soichiro said. “It’s all he has left.”

“Let us begin, then.”

Aizawa was being taken to retrieve the book and Soichiro found that he couldn’t take his eyes off of the young man in the grainy fed. He was obviously exhausted and starved, severely weakened with shackles on his legs. The wounds on his arms could have been caused by anything from untreated insect bites exposed to the filth surrounding him to torture, flies landing on his skin periodically. He was emaciated enough that he only swatted at them feebly sometimes. It was without dignity or mercy this confinement and Soichiro didn’t want to know what death his jailors had planned for him as Aizawa returned, if it would be merciful, or if mercy would only come when his heart finally ceased.

“Ryuk has informed us we can write the name when we are satisfied with the rest,” Near intoned as Mr. K sat.

Watching, Soichiro felt anger in him rising, thinking of Light’s empty words about crime rates and supposed wars. This still existed in his son’s world – the kind of hate that drove men to do this to each other. He did not doubt that abuse was still rampant the world over, that the vulnerable were still sold for their bodies, and that people were kept underneath the layers of polite society as less than human.

He wondered how Light planned to deal with this, with corrupt governments, if his child thought that if he threatened and murdered enough that people would simply bow to his whims and let go of the human condition.

Nothing his son had done would rid the world of what had made up his entire career as he read the entry.

They all agreed it looked correct and while staring up at the screen, Mr. K wrote the name and they waited.

At the time set, the man looked sleepy, laying down, uttering words in a language Soichiro didn’t recognize as his eyes drifted shut, his body lax, a soft smile. There was noise, the guards running in, obviously frightened, trying to rouse him, yelling, and Soichiro didn’t doubt they would try to save him just to kill him later.

“He said what he needed to,” Near told them as Mr. K handed the book back to Aizawa. “Now, we will wait for a while before leaking this footage to the media.”

“And you think they’ll pick it up?” Ide asked, hesitant.

“Yes, due to the message about Kira that he so kindly said for us. Disgusting as it is.” Near gazed up, his fingers playing with the ends of his hair as he considered something, Soichiro wished he could see Near’s face. “Perhaps, if nothing else, we will be drawing attention to the plight of these people.”

He tried to hold onto that as Aizawa left them to re-secure the book and he left with his team, Ryuk shadowing them back down the hallway. One of Near’s men had given the Shinigami an apple which was being devoured en route.

We just killed a man. We didn’t even discuss trying to save him. We simply watched him die.

“Do you need to eat?” Matsuda asked, an innocence to his question that Ryuk seemed to pick up on and not a reprimand.

“No,” the creature allowed, chewing his prize. “I live an entirely different way. It’s just enjoyable, at least here.”

“Is there food where you come from?”

Ryuk grimaced, something souring in him for a moment. “I suppose you could say that. We have apples, for instance, but they’re sand. Like, if you went to one of your beaches and took a bite out the shore.”

Matsuda made a face and Ryuk actually laughed.

“So, not really the same. We don’t need to survive by eating, so we just don’t.”

Soichiro mulled over this as it was more pleasant than other alternatives right now – the questioning of why Shinigami’s had apples, to begin with, or what seemed to be genders if they just were. Sachiko was watching TV with Sayu, knowing where he had gone, and what he had been set to do.

“I wish I could tell you to find another way,” she had told him.

He wasn’t sure anymore as he sat in a large room, his men looking as restless as he felt, Aizawa coming to join them a few minutes later. Soon, Near would have leads for them to chase down and Soichiro would be with his family. There hadn’t been much time together with his officers since they had come here and he worried for their safety even if nothing Near had done would make him think they were being put in more danger than before.

Is this justified, what we did? Have I just condoned murder or did we truly need to know if these rules are false because anyone that could tell us is a habitual liar or heavily biased?

“I don’t like it either,” Aizawa said, voice quiet, and Soichiro knew it was directed towards him.

“It was better than what he had. There is that,” Matsuda said.

“We can’t just go around euthanizing people, especially without their permission,” Aizawa snapped back before rubbing his head. “This whole thing, how distant it is, I can’t imagine it ever ending well. We would have been even less connected if we weren’t staring right at that man while he died. It would just be some distant idea –“ Aizawa cut himself off, dropping his gaze.

And it’s so real now. The idea of it, while believed, we hadn’t witnessed it, clinging like Sachiko that perhaps it was wrong, that nothing like this could exist.

Sitting, he stretched out his leg, hand heavy on his cane. It only made it slightly easier to bear, what his son was, that if it had involved the traditional means of murder Light would never have done this.

And it made it all the worse that Light, in his curiosity and pride, had found and tested this thing, twisting his mind until he vindicated himself and cursed them all.

“I know,” Soichiro offered. “I think it made it easy for Light. He wrote down names and in his head, the bad people were gone. I don’t know if he ever watched any of them really die except –“

“L,” Matsuda finished quietly when he couldn’t and the atmosphere was somber. “I – I really hate him if he did that to L, even if he used that Shinigami.”

We all told L no matter the conditions he came up with, we wouldn’t let him do this and now, here we are. I wonder what he would say: if he would be angry or laugh at our hypocrisy that got him killed.

Ide put a hand on Matsuda’s shoulder, silent, Ruvie bringing them coffee. It would be a long thirteen days, especially if they kept failing to find who his son had set into motion to take his place. Then, their hope would rest on Light finally breaking in the aftermath and he feared not only would he not be here to see it, but that it would take Light’s remaining sanity with it.

Chapter Text

A loud knocking and Soichiro felt groggy and annoyed, Sachiko tucked up against him making a noise she typically reserved for when she was cranky at the children’s antics. The room was dark, it must be late, and the knocking continued as he struggled to get up, finding his cane.

“Yes,” he asked, not hiding the irritation in his voice as he opened the door, immediately regretful when he saw who it was. “What is it?”

“You should come,” Roger Ruvie told him. “Both of you. It’s not life or death, but you should come.”

The sounds of the sheets being pushed back as he flipped on one of the lights, eyes watering as he made out Sachiko working her way to standing.

Clothing had been brought for all of them from his home and he was grateful they were both dressed in respectable nightclothes as he shuffled over to his robe. Not that he didn’t think Near hadn’t also searched his home but he personally had nothing to hide and he doubted his wife or daughter had anything of interest in all of this either. Sachiko followed his lead, Ruvie waiting in the hallway as they made themselves decent, hair smoothed down, slippers on as they went, her hand tangling with his.

“After you retired for the night, Sayu slipped out of her quarters,” Ruvie told them in English as they walked and Soichiro recognized it as the way to Near, the worry becoming larger in him. “We waited to see what she was up to and she found Matsuda coming back from an empty recon mission.”

“Did he –“ he couldn’t finish the words, Sachiko holding his hand tighter.

“She made some demands. Near decided to fulfill them.”

Words were a lump in his throat, torn between anger and fear Sayu had done something unspeakable as they came up to the heavily barred door that lead to Near as he translated for his wife, Ruvie activating the security to open it.

“Aneki,” he heard Light’s startled voice say as they entered and on the largest of the screens he saw Sayu taking a seat in front of Light’s cell, Matsuda beside her.

“Get her out of there.” His voice was low, Near watching him from across the room half curled in a chair with a posture that was insultingly lazy. “She shouldn’t be there.”

“She is an adult –“

“She is traumatized. I don’t know how much this will set her back –“

“She already knew far more than we realized.” Near was trite, his words quick, nodding up at the screen.

Sachiko’s hand was on his shoulder and he looked at her, helpless, unable to stop Sayu from learning the horrible truth. Instead, he drew his wife to him as they watched Light recover from his surprise, composing himself as he sat back down on the thin bed he was chained beside.

Even though her back was to him, he suspected his daughter was crying.

“Did someone tell you to come here?” Light asked her, keeping his voice gentle but she shook her head. His gaze drifted over to Matsuda, something that was hard to see in his eyes given the camera, but Soichiro would bet it was anger. “Why would you let her do this?”

Matsuda bowed his head.

“I asked him to come with me. Everyone has kept this from me. He’s the only one who even told me anything close to the truth.”

“Don’t be hard on your officer,” Near said, watching Soichiro as chairs were brought for both he and his wife to sit in. “She really did a number on him and I would bet between not sleeping and being emotionally attached, he gave in.”

“Sayu,” Light was saying, tense. “You shouldn’t be involved in any of this.”

His daughter appeared to wipe her face, Matsuda, to his credit, producing something that could be a napkin or handkerchief that she accepted, Sachiko pressed against his side as they sat.

“When I was taken, they kept me blindfolded at first but I eventually was told that the director was taken by them and killed by Kira,” she said finally, her voice shaking, Light looking stricken for a moment before it flowed away. “I tried to fight them though there was little I could do. I cursed them, asking how many people they had killed. The man, the one who was in charge, swore to me he didn’t do it. That he wouldn’t kill off a bargaining chip or a way to get information like that.”

“And you believed him?”

“He – he kept the others from ever touching me. He said that if I didn’t die, if he got what he wanted, he would know I was very important to Kira.” Her voice broke and Matsuda put a hand on her arm, whispering something to her that made her shake her head. “No, I’m alright. I didn’t think about it. Dad came and he gave them that thing, that book, and that man kept his word. And the whole way home I made myself not think about why I would be traded or important for Kira.”

Light’s face was blank while she talked, carefully constructed to show nothing and Soichiro recognized it as the front Light put up when he was upset or troubled. It was the same look when he had been bullied and denied it when younger, when he felt upset recently over being unwanted at home, when he talked about being accused of being Kira when L was alive and this was all just starting as his never-ending nightmare.

"I didn't let myself think why, if that book was connected to Kira, why it would be allowed to be traded at all," Sayu added, her voice barely audible and Soichiro couldn't suppress a shudder.

Sachiko's breathing was quicker now. Sayu had spoken to her more and there was so little to offer either of them that wasn't hollow.

“You shouldn’t take a madman’s word for things. Sayu, you went through a lot,” Light said, his voice carefully kept comforting. “I don’t doubt he would say things to confuse you.”

“When I got home and it was quiet, when I was alone even though I kept waiting for those men to come, I kept thinking about you. How different you’d been over the years.”

“I was working a lot. I grew up.”

“No. It was before that, when you graduated high school, when you disappeared and you and dad wouldn’t say what actually happened. It was the Kira case. You guys, you made up something about a girl, about Misa, but you were cold when I saw you next.”

Light frowned. “I was under a lot of stress. You’re right, it wasn’t over Misa but it had nothing to do with you. None of this has anything to do with you.”

“That man –“

“Mello,” Matsuda told her and she nodded.

“Mello, he said Kira killed the director because the director meant nothing and therefore had no ties to Kira and was expendable. And when I was back home, I kept thinking about how it was dad who came, about why I was taken at all –“

“To get what he wanted. To hold you hostage to make dad, in his position, trade for your life.”

“Then why not keep the director alive?” she challenged. “Wouldn’t that provide more stress? Weren’t the men loyal to him, want him back alive? Wouldn’t he be more valuable than me to get what Mello was really after?”

“Mello was sending a message that he was serious,” Light told her without missing a single beat. “The NPA would be forced to concede that it was a true threat.”

“Or Kira couldn’t kill me. Even if it meant he lost something so important. The director should have always been greater leverage than me for the NPA, especially since I doubt dad made the choice alone. I should have been the one to die.” Her voice was so soft, Light wincing when she said it as Soichiro felt his wife beside him bury her head against him. “I remember when Misa showed up the night I first met her. How weird it was you took her straight up to your room. You never even came to get the tea you asked mom to make.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Light asked annoyed and Soichiro knew he wanted to change the subject. “That was years ago.”

“I listened at the door.”

Light started slightly then sighed, stretched out one of his legs, the camera microphone just picking up the shifting chains. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I remember her telling you she loved you. You saying that you didn’t want to really date her. That part I could hear and I couldn’t understand what was going on. And you, you said the things like Ryuk. I remember hearing 'Shingami' and thought it odd.  At the time, I didn’t get what it meant, thought I had misheard. It was hard to listen, as if half of the conversation was missing. ”

Light watched her, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “What do you think we were doing?”

“Later, while she was nice, I saw how possessive she was of you,” Sayu continued, ignoring his question. “When we were all out, and that wasn’t very often, I saw the looks she gave other women nearby. When she took me shopping, she told me proudly she would make sure you only had men in your life outside of family and her. I thought it weird that she called our parents like they were her own. I couldn’t figure out why you were with her, but I felt, if she was what you wanted, then I should support you. Even if I didn’t think you were happy.

“And I wanted to ask you for a long time – why haven’t you married her?”

“What?” Light asked, surprised again.

“You were together for years, back when you were barely an adult. I thought it strange you lived together but never got married.”

“What business is it of yours if we did or not?” Light snapped back, clearly uncomfortable.

“Mom didn’t like it. I’m sure dad did even less. But you got away with it because you’re you.” The tone Sayu had reminded Soichiro of when she was little, pouting because she thought Light got more latitude than her. Though, in retrospect, she hadn’t been entirely incorrect. “Do you love her?”

“Of course I do.” Light stood, his chains shifting as he paced slightly. “What kind of question is that? And, because you’re nosy, I was planning on becoming engaged to her.”

“Really?” Sayu’s tone was dry, disbelief, and Soichiro smiled despite himself knowing his daughter didn’t believe this either. “Can I ask her that?”

“If you want. I don’t know where she is.”

“They told me they have her here, chained like you.” Sayu let out a delicate sound, a mix between a sob and a sigh. “They think you two are Kira.”

“You’ve met Misa, do you think she’d be able to be Kira?”

“By herself, no. But –“ Sayu paused, Light turning his head to watch his sister. “If she was blindly in love with you…” Her voice fell off and disappeared as though the words could not be brought forth.

Light was tense, his unhappiness apparent and unhidden over Sayu’s unspoken accusation.

“He wouldn’t,” Sachiko whispered to him, and Soichiro shook his head, stroking his wife’s hair.

“He can’t do anything right now. And he chose to save her before.”

“Maybe, maybe it was because it would look bad if he didn’t.”

Soichiro swallowed, disliking that it was a similar thought he’d had himself as he watched their children.

“Why don’t you ask me what you’ve come to ask me,” Light finally said, staring at the wall.

“Would you tell me the truth?” Sayu shot back. “Or would you lie even though they have you chained?”

Light shifted his focus back to her, shaking his head. “I’ve been through this before and survived. Old paranoia from someone that keeps haunting me no matter how dead he is. I weathered it then, I’ll weather it now.”

Does he really believe there’s a way out? That Near will tire of this or that we’ll never eventually find his accomplice no matter how dead I am by that point? Surely, he can’t think that.

“You’ve been arrested before?”

Light flinched, realizing his mistake but he simply took a breath, letting it out slowly. “Yes. It wasn’t pleasant. Both Misa and I survived it then, we will survive it now.”

Sayu turned to look at Matsuda who nodded, eyes still downcast. “If that’s the case, can you not do what you did then to prove you’re innocence?”

“No,” Light bit out and Soichiro closed his eyes, hoping she didn’t press but he knew his daughter.

“How did it happen?” she demanded, turning to Matsuda who shifted, seeming to search for words to say when Light, in his cruelty, answered her.

“They believed the Kira’s killed at will, so L, the one running everything, sent dad out with me and Misa handcuffed in his back seat after keeping us imprisoned for three months –“

“Near! Stop this!” he cried out, trying to get up.

“Then, L had dad act like he was going to kill me and himself in front of her. Put a gun to my head,” Light said, his look cold as Sayu let out a strangled noise, “and pulled the trigger.”

Sayu stood, hands over her mouth. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s what happened. Ask Matsuda-san. He watched with the rest of them.”

She turned and Matsuda nodded, helpless to do anything else. Soichiro was on his feet, his wife distressed.

“Stop this,” he told Near who was sitting impassively, finger twirling around and around in his hair. “This is doing nothing for her.”

“She will figure out the truth eventually.”

“Then let it be from me.”

Near pointed towards the main counter. “Help him with the microphone.”

With no other options, he went towards it, knowing Near was hoping that Light would get upset enough to incriminate himself, to let something slide out about what he had been up to or that he had been Kira. That he would even tell Sayu any of this at all was a testament to his rage over his condition, but that didn’t create guilt. It made it a poor decision and a reflection of his character, but it wasn’t guilt as a chair was brought.

“Press this button to speak,” a man told him as he watched his daughter pace, arms wrapped around herself, crying, and upset.

“Sayu,” he said, seeing her stop, and look up.

“Did you do that to him?”

“Yes.” It would be unwise to lie as he watched her face break, feeling Sachiko’s hand on his shoulder, her face tight when he looked up at her. “At the time we thought they killed at will. There was forensic evidence linking Misa to the tapes the other Kira had sent to the TV station. I was confined in a different cell than Light, but he is telling the truth. We thought that if Misa was really guilty, she would kill me before I could pull the trigger. It was the only way to free him.”

Sayu cried for a few minutes into her hands, Matsuda doing what he could for her. Light watched on and Soichiro wondered if his son was calculating how to get his sister to his side as he looked up at his wife.

“Sachiko,” he started, her gaze falling to him, fury in her eyes, and he knew he had no excuse for agreeing to such a plan even as he tried to find one. “He was bound up, barely able to move. I thought – I believed him innocent. I hated it, but we didn’t know what we do now.”

She swallowed. “I wish you had told me and I didn’t learn it with her.”

He nodded, returning his focus to their children, unable to contemplate if his wife would ever forgive him and what he would do if she didn’t.

“That book, the one that dad brought, you use that,” Sayu said, her voice flat, Light’s jaw clenched.

“We believe Kira uses something like that, yes.” Light turned more towards her, watching. “If I was Kira, why would I let him hand over my notebook?”

“Because there was always more than one,” Matsuda said, standing, and Sayu came closer to him, further from Light, and Soichiro was surprised by the relief he felt over that. “And even you struggled to kill your family. All we had were pieces, until recently.”

“What happened recently?” She moved closer to Matsuda. “Was it why dad was injured?”

“Sayu,” Soichiro said, seeing her look to where the speaker most likely was. “None of this is your fault. This is a terrible way to speak of this. I’ll tell you everything but not like this.”

“Why don’t you tell her now?” Light chimed in, something like a smile that was icy as he too looked up slightly. “Why don’t you tell her just what you did? Let us all hear it.”

“Light!” Matsuda cried his patience ending. “You are tormenting your sister for your own amusement.”

“What? I am merely telling her the truth. She wanted the truth, did she not, when she came in here? So, tell her the truth. Tell her what dad did, that he let her kidnapper go free because he couldn’t finish what he started after he traded his life. And then, blamed it all on me. Tell her, father.”

Sayu was openly crying again as her eyes fell back to Matsuda, the answer stuck in Soichiro’s throat as Sachiko was turning away.

“You will take me to my daughter now,” she told Near who nodded, signaling one of the men.

“Stay, talk to her,” his wife told him, touching his face. “And later you can tell me this full story about why you did what you did.”

“Forgive me, Sachiko,” he whispered, doubting if she could before she left his side.

“Touta?” Sayu asked, shocking Soichiro with her informality. “Did he do that?”

“I made a deal with a Shinigami in order to see Mello’s name,” Soichiro told her to spare Matsuda. Sayu’s face was a mess of grief as she made herself look up toward where he felt the speaker was in the cell block. “Half of my remaining life for that ability.”

“And how much do you have left?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, seeing her edge closer to despair.

“Did you kill him?”

“No,” he said, voice hoarse as Matsuda moved closer, Sayu looking ready to collapse and Soichiro’s stomach lurched at how unmoved Light looked at the mayhem he had caused. “I couldn’t murder him. In the end, the deal I made gave us the information needed to finally put everything together.”

The door to where Sayu was opened and he watched Sachiko enter, Sayu running to her mother. Whispered apologies, his wife holding her, Matsuda watching before he turned his attention back to Light.

“There was no reason to do that to her.” Matsuda’s voice was low, enraged, a state Soichiro rarely saw in him as Light took him in.

He wants to turn Sayu against me. That I’ll lose her even if he is imprisoned just to hurt me more.

“I was unaware that you have become my sister’s defender. Didn’t my parents tell you that you were too old for her and in the wrong profession?”

“I care for her as a person, Light,” Matsuda answered as Sayu slowly calmed in her mother’s arms. “Kira has destroyed a good portion of her life, her family. Do you not care?”

“Don’t presume to know what I do or do not care about,” Light answered, the lowness of his voice causing a shiver in Soichiro. “Just because you’re trying to take my spot doesn’t make you part of our family. Don’t think I haven’t seen just how much you’ve sucked up to them. It doesn’t surprise me that you’d be eager to throw me under the nearest train to worm your way in. Don’t expect me to be quiet about your designs on my sister.”

“Light.” Sayu’s voice was thick as she turned, watching her brother. Her hand was in her mother’s as she walked closer to the cell, staring at her brother.

"Don't let them lead you down these false paths, Sayu. You don't know him as I do," Light told her.

Whatever words she wanted to say failed her as she was still, silent, not understanding.

“Why don’t you go see your father?” Matsuda told her, not unkindly, Sachiko agreeing. “I know he would want to talk to you.”

“We really don’t know how much time he has left?”

“No,” Sachiko told her, trying to have her go to the door. “Every day is a gift.”

Soichiro’s throat burned as he noticed Near had moved, coming to stand beside him, lining his little finger puppets up on the counter as he tilted his head back to watch the screen. He was small, close to Sayu’s size but his face was hidden, hiding his true age as Near left one puppet separated from the rest.

“Do you love me?”

Light was startled by Sayu’s question and then said, “Of course I do. Don’t be silly.”

“I love you, oniichan,” she said, her grief coloring every word. “But I don’t believe you.”

Sachiko put her arm around their daughter, leading her out, Matsuda looked at Light until he knew the women were gone.

“That was cruel, what you did. Whatever you think you got out of it, remember that we have time to wait for you to tell us the truth, for once, Light.”

“Just remember when you move into my place that my father will toss you away even easier than he did me.”

“Please,” Soichiro said as Matsuda was leaving and Near reached up and pushed a button, turning off the fed so he didn’t have to watch his son anymore.

It had been a message to him more than it had been to Matsuda, Near watching him.

“I think this speaks for itself, his behavior. He will use anything to hurt you at this point, including turning your family against you if he can. Fortunately, I don’t think they believe him but I suggest not letting him drive any more wedges that your secrecy has already allowed.” Near sighed, staring at his little puppets. “Is there anything else I should know about during the investigation that L did?”

“No. As far as I know, they told you everything else.” Soichiro felt tired, wanting to be back in bed beside his wife and fearing that she would forever hate him. “I had no idea that Sayu knew what she did, that she had questions.”

“Or that those questions increased her response to her trauma,” Near added and Soichiro knew he was frowning despite his face being hidden. “Did you notice changes in him?”

“I did but between my work and the stress of everything, I wrote it off, felt it was due to what we had been through.”

His dreams kept replaying L’s death in his mind, how Light had cried out. Was it all just an act? Was he glad that L died the way he did, afraid and in the arms of his killer?

“Mello put together that Kira had direct access to police information as the director’s kidnapping was unknown at that time to the public. He reasoned that it wouldn’t be far-fetched that Kira himself sat on the Task Force sworn to bring him in and took your daughter as ransom, wanting to know if Kira would kill her, at least for utilitarian reasons, or save her.”

“And Light answered it in spades.”

“Yes,” Near said, knocking the lone doll down before collecting them. “Mello was giving her a warning even if she couldn’t understand it at the time.”

Near moved away from him as the door opened and he saw them enter, Sayu coming to him.

“Papa,” she whispered, her arms around his neck as she sobbed and he held her, whispering that it wasn’t her fault, that none of this was her doing.

Sayu’s head was on his shoulder as she slept, emotionally exhausted as Sachiko arranged a blanket over him. His throat was raw from talking, reminding him of the early days in the hospital as he made himself look at his wife. It was sorrow and anger and many things he couldn’t name and he didn’t know if he regretted not telling her from the moment Light was suspected or that he ever allowed a way for her to know.

She stooped to readjust the coffee table that had been drug over earlier so he could put his feet up and he wanted to tell her she could stop, that she didn’t have to stay.

“I’ll go find something for you to eat,” she whispered in his ear and he nodded. There were other ways to get what they needed but he didn’t stop her, knowing she wanted time alone.

Instead, he stroked their daughter’s hair as she put on her shoes before coming back over to him.

“Not leaving,” she told him firmly. “I just – just –“

“I know.”

Bending, she kissed him on the head, studying his face before pulling away and slipping out the door near silent. Even with her promise to come back, it felt like the world vanished with her and he tried to prepare himself for the very real fact that their marriage may not survive this regardless of the outcome of their experiment with the rules.

Sayu slept on, unaware, her deep breathing a welcome sight. He couldn’t help but think of when he woke up to her beside him when they had stayed at the hotel in America, how upset she had been. It made even more sense if she was thinking about her brother being Kira, ideas of losing everything in her head.

That Light had done this –

He closed his eyes, tried to relax. Sachiko would either return or she wouldn’t. They would find Light’s conspirator eventually and he may die before he saw that. He may have been dead already even if Light hadn’t set a plan into place given his health. Before the raid, he probably could have feasibly had another twenty years but he wasn’t sure now what he had left. It could be days or months. The idea of dying suddenly in front of his family was haunting him more and more with each passing hour.

Holding his daughter, he thought of the one they had lost, still and cold by the time he had been allowed to pick her up. She hadn’t appeared distressed. Sachiko had withdrawn. The idea of losing another too brilliant for both of them. Sayu had ended up being a surprise, Light being excited, not understanding or remembering what had come before. When Sayu arrived, alive and healthy and all the things any parent wished for, it had seemed to alleviate a part of the crushing guilt Sachiko had tucked up and hidden inside herself, even if she checked on Sayu much more often, fears of her slipping away and being lost forever.

He doesn’t know what we went through. Would he even have paused in all this if he did?

The answers he thought were true were terrible and he shifted slightly, Sayu not rousing. She didn’t understand fully why he had done all the things he had, but it was different than his wife. In her eyes, she didn’t understand why they had ever cleared Misa, that perhaps Misa had done something over Light being the original instigator of all this mess. In the end, they would all blame something when it clearly rested on Light, no matter how young he had been when this had started. He had still been old enough to know better, to understand that killing was wrong.

Maybe he did, maybe he thought he was already damned and as it went along, everything got easier. No consequences, the illusion of a better world, he justified it to himself while he used everyone around him till he became Kira. That the power he wielded was more important than the people he claimed to be saving.

Exhaustion was creeping over him and he finally dozed off, waking when he heard the door click open. Sachiko was carrying things and he was surprised to see Aizawa with her to help with a tray.

“At least you stayed put,” Aizawa murmured to him as he put what he had down on the small table.

It had been hours, he knew his wife had not just been off to find food.

As much as he didn’t want to, he rubbed Sayu’s shoulder. “Hey, you should eat.”

Blinking, she raised her head, grumbling before nodding, taking in Aizawa and her mother as she got herself righted beside him on the small loveseat. She had ended up here when she had broken down and just wept and wept because he tore away whatever denial she had left.

“Still looking,” Aizawa told him, patting his shoulder. “We’ll find it.”

He nodded as his officer left, Sachiko fusing over laying things out as Sayu got up to go use the bathroom. His wife came to him then and he stared up at her, unsure of what to say.

“I wish you had told me.”

“I know. After everything – “ he couldn’t look away, trying to find the right words. “In my head, I wanted to be sure before I did and each time I felt we were close there was doubt. And I didn’t want to do that to you, put you through this, and be that wrong.”

“We aren’t the first parents whose child has become a murderer,” she told him, voice steady but filled with sorrow. “I don’t understand why he did this other than it was just there. Watching the world be broken and thinking this was the way to fix it.”

“I think that was his idea.”

That his son may have also just liked the power, to have that much control, helped get them to here he didn’t voice but he wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t feel the same.

“You should stand,” she told him, helping him get his stiff legs down from where he had them perched. “You’ve been sitting here too long.”

He laughed softly, as she brought his cane and helped him up.

Chapter Text

“Yagami-san?”

He was back in the room he had sat in before while contemplating what to tell his wife about his probable death, aching and restless in the middle of the night. The small windows showed darkness, the lights overhead glaringly artificial in the deep of night as he turned his tired eyes towards the door.

It was the man who typically escorted them who spoke to him, that he was sure of despite the mask as he could recognize the hair, the form, the figure, the way he preferred to dress. Only Ruvie showed his face, barring those few minutes with Halle and he despised thinking there would be a repeat of that little talk.

“Yes?”

“I was sent to update you and discuss a plan,” the man said and Soichiro nodded, being at a loss at what else to do.

As though I could deny him, chase him away. Little good it would do me.

It was two days since Sayu had found out the truth and she varied from ignoring him to crying to asking him what they had done wrong. Sachiko was at times silent, her eyes finding anything that wasn't him to see.

It was nearing the fourth day since they had killed that man who was always going to die.

“I realized that I never told you a name,” the gentleman said as he took a nearby chair and Soichiro forced himself to look even marginally friendly. “Restor is fine. To be honest, I’m not sure if you’re relieved or upset you can’t see us like everyone else.”

“Relieved,” Soichiro said without thinking, rubbing his knee absently. “It’s just a constant barrage, all the time, often without good news attached.”

“I can’t imagine. And it wouldn’t do any good for most to warn them, would it?”

“No. It could be a disease or something that simply cannot be prevented. I’ve been told all humans have a set timespan assigned to them that they are meant to live under.”

“And who sets that? The Shinigami?”

“No.” Soichiro sighed again, frowning. “Or, at least I don’t think so. I’ve found that I don’t want to keep asking.”

“Understandable. I’m not sure I want to know either. I rather liked my world without strange creatures and murder books.” Restor seemed to relax, settling more in his chair. He was older, that much was clear, older than Halle had been by at least a decade and by far older than Near who Soichiro assumed had been attempting to have some semblance of a childhood when his mentor was murdered. “Amane’s mental state has been progressively deteriorating.”

“Really?”

It shouldn’t be a surprise, anyone’s would after having been taken without warning, stripped, searched, put in a cell, shackled, accused of things, especially when it was becoming painfully obvious that she simply didn’t know anymore.

I want to believe I was mistaken, that I simply chose not to see her lifespan originally when I looked at that picture, but I stared at it for over an hour.

“The Task Force has informed us that during her first confinement under L under much harsher conditions, she never broke. Did they share their reasoning about her changes during it?”

“No. I haven’t had much time to spend with them.”

Restor nodded, hands clasped in his lap, one leg drawn up against the side of the chair as though he was relaxed. “They think, and Near agrees, that her arrest was sudden. It wasn't long after she had originally met Light that her original run ended and she chose to give up the book during the first few days, signaling her personality change.”

“Yes, I’ve wondered that. L told me Light had the same kind of change. It was obvious that it unnerved him.”

And why he tended to think of memory loss, believing that he would never catch the originals because they had slipped away right in front of him.

“Putting together the time frames based on the memory of your men, neither of these time periods is the same as thirteen days, so we do have to make the assumption that there is an outside possibility that the rule is true and they secured a loophole. Given the extent of what has happened, I don’t feel that this is something that Mello would mislead us on.”

Pressing his lips together, Soichiro managed to not spit at the name thinking of Sayu’s distress, of Halle’s justifications in front of him in this very room in that chair, no less.

“I had to consider he was just tormenting me, lying to me in the beginning to create chaos.”

“It would be a fair assumption to make. I would have made the same, given what happened.”

“Did something else happen outside of my daughter?” Soichiro asked, wondering if he would be told the truth as Restor stiffened, his gaze floating up towards one of the darkened windows. “Did Mello do something to Near with it?”

“He forced most of our team to shoot themselves.” Restor’s voice was soft, the information somewhat expected but Soichiro couldn’t help the jolt, the shock of it. “He had gotten most of the secure files on who was assigned. Near had been able to pull some of them. And of course, one was left alive, you met her, for other reasons.”

“Yes,” he answered, swallowing. “I’m sorry –“

“It’s not your fault. No one would ask you to leave your child to die.” Restor sighed again, shifting his weight. “I’d like to believe I could do that, give her a peaceful death to ensure no one else was hurt, but no parent should be judged on making that choice or the one you did, under those conditions. She was innocent in all ways.”

Nodding, Soichiro’s gaze found the ground, the worn tile smudged with dirt, smelling the mustiness of a little used space, his heels shifting with useless energy, silently, up and down, wanting to not discuss this anymore.

“I know you, at least a part of you, views what Near has done in the terms of informing your family of the reality of the situation as an unnecessary cruelty,” Restor continued after a minute of silence had dragged itself past them. “He is of the belief that not only will it allow us to gain more information but that the only way any of you will survive what is coming is by facing it.”

“And he has made that decision for us? Out of kindness?” Soichiro couldn’t help the tone, wanting to just break something, anything near him as Restor watched.

“He regrets that he didn’t intervene on your behalf before.”

“What?”

Restor inhaled as if trying to break up the words he wanted to say to make them flow out, a cold sweat starting on Soichiro’s brow, a clammy feeling collecting along his palms.

“He was in possession of a photo of Mello, along with the knowledge of his real name. He had considered threatening Mello with sending it to the sitting L.”

“Because Kira had shown a propensity to get our files,” Soichiro finished, swallowing, feeling half choked. “For all that Mello has done, Near still seems to defend him some.”

“I know. It stems from their childhood. I don’t know if he would have followed through, at least on all of it.”

“But he wanted to see what would happen.” Soichiro tilted his head back, staring up at the false ceiling tiles, two with small stains. “I guess he got his wish.”

“It is easier when you are distant, when you are the one moving pieces, not looking directly at those affected,” Restor said quietly. “I believe you feel that this is how your son has survived so well despite all he has done and the amount he has killed. He rarely has had to face the suffering he has caused.”

Soichiro couldn’t look at the man, letting his eyes drift, jaw clenched, trying not to lose his mind in this moment. “Was there something you came to ask me?”

“We would like Sachiko and Sayu to speak to Misa.”

His head snapped over at that, Restor still in his relaxed position, as though it was meant to keep him calm, be seen as non-threatening and Soichiro let out a bitter little laugh that was ugly even to his ears.

“You are hoping that in her current mental state that she will be more willing to talk to people she views as non-threatening, even if she can’t remember why.”

“Yes. We will prepare them beforehand –“

“Neither of them has interrogation training.”

“We aren’t asking them to do that. Just ask a few questions that we need to ask during the course of the conversation. Perhaps it will help stabilize Amane to see them, too. I don’t particularly feel bad for her, she has gotten herself here, but she is pitiful. If this continues, it is likely anything useful that she could tell us will be lost as her mind fully collapses.”

“Why bother with me? It’s been shown to me that I have little control over anything.”

“Yagami-san,” Restor said exasperated, “they both asked us for the truth. We did not just force it on them –“

“Because they had no idea!”

“And you left them that way. I understand you never had enough to doubt him fully but are you going to sit there and tell me you always believed him innocent these past years? That you never once had questions you couldn’t answer –“

“Do what you like. As long as they are allowed to make a choice, I don’t care.”

Restor stood, seeming to sense this was over and Soichiro hated that he was being looked down on as he refused to acknowledge the man was even there.

“I can’t imagine what this feels like for you, the level of deception used against you. But I suggest you start letting them help you because if you don’t, you’ll be back to willing your death. You’ll never find peace any other way.

“We’ll notify you if they go. You are welcome to watch with us when they speak to Amane.”

Restor’s footsteps were even, confident as he left, Soichiro struggling to hold himself together, to not just scream.

They’ll never forgive me. Not only did I not see it, but I lied to them, letting Light turn himself into this. If only I had been home more, maybe – I don’t know. Maybe he would have chosen differently. Maybe he wouldn’t have felt that he couldn’t fail. That I would only love him if he was perfect –

“You need to stop sitting in this room.”

Looking up, he found Ryuk standing over him, not even hearing his approach and Soichiro knew he had been sitting here in despair for some time, the Shinigami bemused with him all over again.

“Bad conversation do keep finding me here. Or, difficult ones,” he allowed, deciding that perhaps he should stand if Ryuk had made it a point to find him. The tightness in his leg was evidence that he had been sitting far longer than he realized. “I just wanted a window, even if it’s not much.”

“Ah,” the Shinigami replied, looking guilty and Soichiro narrowed his eyes.

“You know where there are windows. Given that walls aren’t a real obstacle to you.”

Ryuk stared up at the ceiling and sighed. “Don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you these things.”

All he could do was open and close his mouth before the creature continued, “On account that they control the apples here.”

“You have an addiction.”

Ryuk glowered, shoulders slumping more as he lowered himself down to look right into Soichiro’s face.

“You’re point?” it growled out. “Imagine never tasting anything beyond rot and sand and dust, and then having an apple. You’d want more, too.”

Soichiro managed to halt his laughter at the ridiculousness of his life in this second. “I suppose.”

Ryuk let out a sigh, something that smelled different, not retched but decidedly not living as he straightened back up. “You could just ask for a better window.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what you were talking to my wife about,” he shot back as they started walking, Ryuk giving another of his easy shrugs.

“Just generalities. Questions about how it all worked. That sort of thing.”

Somehow, Soichiro didn’t think that was everything and he decidedly didn’t want to know just what Sachiko had spoken about, if she was searching to see if her son had a choice. He’d give anything to have had Light be corrupted, to let her believe that over the truth.

He wanted to blame Ryuk, his boredom, for bringing that thing here, but in the end, Light had made a choice. That made this all the worse, what had been done.

“She asks me why you’re an idiot,” Ryuk suddenly said, his voice a low whine as if it was an unwanted burden to talk to her. “I tell her I can’t see in your head, that her guess is as good as mine.”

“You told her that?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know how humans work?”

She’s been asking about me, trying to understand at least the last few months. It would make sense but he’s told her something beyond that I’m an idiot that gives him apples so he stops talking and moves things around. She wouldn’t have been so comfortable speaking to him the other morning or willing to tolerate me if that was all he offered.

“Go sleep.” Ryuk waved a hand towards the door that he knew his wife sat behind. “Or at least pretend to.”

The creature was lumbering off, simply passing through the next wall it came upon instead of rounding the corner and Soichiro rubbed the bridge of his nose before opening the door.

Sayu was curled up and asleep on the loveseat, impossibly fitting in such a small space, his wife up, flipping through papers of some sort in bed, her eyes going to him. Stretching out her hand, she got him to come to her, and he knew he looked terrible as she pushed his hair back, away from his face.

“You worry me when you go off.”

“I don’t mean to keep you up.”

He was still dressed but he found he didn’t particularly care, shedding his shoes as he laid down on top of the covers beside her, tired but his eyes unwilling to close all the way, thinking of his conversation with Restor.

“They are going want the two of you to go speak to Misa,” he told her, keeping his voice down so Sayu at least could find rest. “They’ll help you prepare.”

“Because she trusts us.” Sachiko was a mixture of sorrow and disgust. “If I had known when she first came that night –“

“We didn’t even know a name yet,” he told her gently, taking her hand as she slide down a little in bed.

“What she’s done. What they’ve both done…”

He got her to roll over, and she pressed against him, face into his neck as he held her in the stillness of the room, wishing he had a different answer than what reality was giving them.

He sat with Near as they watched Sachiko and Sayu’s visit with Misa. It was clear that there had been a fundamental change in Misa since he had last seen her. All she seemed to be was a terrified woman, confused over the accusations, not understanding why any of this was happening.

While she had been defiant from the original reports he had heard, her mental state was failing at a more rapid pace. She was nervous, her sleepless eyes as she looked out over her visitors showing her despair and Soichiro wondered if her empty relationship fed into this. Originally, when she was questioned like this before, it had been new, her and Light, there weren’t years of lies and most likely being neglected to build up in her mind, making her question what was happening around her.

As much as he was loathed to admit it, he wouldn’t doubt that if Light couldn’t be bothered with them, he showed the same level of concern toward her. Just enough to keep her in line and no more.

Enough to make her keep believing he cared.

It made him think of her first imprisonment. This was kinder to her though, in fairness, they knew how the powers worked now. She had been silent for days, L had refused her even water, waiting for her to break despite their protests and he felt dirty for not stopping it. L had had a point that she was dangerous, and could kill by sight – so they thought at the time – there were already multiple dead at her feet and she didn’t have the ideals of Kira.

She was ragged now, hair stringy, a stark cry from how carefully she always kept herself, cheeks a blotchy spattering of red against sallow skin. Her hands were covered by something, a glove of some sort, and he wondered if she had been scratching at herself in boredom or distress. Her white clothing was still clean, most likely kept that way by Near’s men, the chains shifting and confining her as much as Light’s.

“Have you seen Light?” Misa asked and Soichiro couldn’t help how he bristled.

“Yes,” Sachiko answered. “He’s alright.”

Their son was far from alright and Soichiro wiped a hand down his face, trying to remind himself to breathe as Near sat on the floor, playing with something in his hands, watching the screen with his ever-present mask in place.

“How did Amane get a book, to begin with?” Near asked, turning his head and Soichiro knew it was towards where Ryuk stood behind him.

“That was Rem’s choice.”

“And it had nothing to do with what you did?”

“As far as I know, no. Sadly, we can’t ask her.”

“Did she tell you why she gave Misa such a thing?” Soichiro asked, turning to see the Shinigami better and already knew that the creature knew.

“Look, in our world, we can watch yours, see any human we like. Some get overly attached.”

“So, this Rem became overly attached from watching and decided to hand over an instrument of death?” Near’s disbelief was palatable. “Why do I feel like there’s more to this story?”

Ryuk let out a long, petulant sound. “Believe what you want. She felt humans were disgusting, thought there was wisdom behind Kira, and when he was threatened –“

“She died,” Near finished, focused intently now. “Extending a human life kills you, doesn’t it? That’s why Rem died – she extended their life by killing L and Watari.”

“Would seem so,” Ryuk allowed, looking unamused by all of this. “I wasn’t personally there. It wasn’t something I encouraged. If anything, she was a liability all the way around but it wasn’t my place to question another Shinigami.”

“Kira came first and killed the man who killed Amane’s parents,” Near said quietly. “She became obsessed with him. It may have always ended up this way, whether or not she had her book. Perhaps that’s why she was chosen, her existing fixation would allow her to help the mission, and her lack of morals or empathy made it easier for her to fall into place. No matter if she’s with Kira or Light she knows it’s the same person, it’s why she’s been so loyal all these years. Why he knows she’ll be loyal no matter what she still knows.”

Soichiro let his attention drift back up to the monitor, hating all of this, seeing Misa crying again, distressed.

“Misa,” Sayu was saying, her voice soft and he strained to hear her. “Did my brother ever ask you to do anything that seems strange? Maybe go somewhere, do or get something that doesn’t make sense?”

Misa frowned and he couldn’t hide his surprise that she would ask such a thing, unsure if it was a Near question or a Sayu one. They were banking on Misa seeing them as non-threatening, people to be trusted still. When she had her memories, she would have known them as innocents, kept in the dark, hoping it bled over to now.

“I – after I was held,” Misa stopped, her voice halting.

“When the real L had you imprisoned?” Sayu asked, the same gentleness to her voice, Misa’s eyes widening. “My brother told us, so we’d know what was happening. It’s important, Misa, so that we can help him.”

Well, that is the truth. He did tell her that, Soichiro thought, unamused by Light’s previous antics towards Sayu now trapped in all of this. He did her no favors, even if she marginally understands why I did what I did to him.

“I’d believe your daughter if I didn’t know better,” Near quipped from the floor, and Soichiro felt sickened.

"I don't know," Misa answered, uncertain, and Soichiro knew it was due to her allegiance to Light.

"Please, Misa, you love my brother, don't you?"

"Yes!" She cried out, her voice a shrill octave, as though if she said it loud enough it would become truth. "There is no one I love more."

Why does she love him? Does she even know him?

"He's in trouble. He needs our help. Anything you can remember."

Misa wavered, and Soichiro thought back to what he had been told. She had begun drinking more during the past few months and he wondered if Light's stress played into that choice, if they fought more, if he had little time for her nonsense. Maintaining their rouse of a relationship wasn't nearly as important as Light's mission to get him to believe that his son wasn't Kira. 

Perhaps he was looking for way to be free of her.

Perhaps it played into her fragile mental state now as Misa rubbed her arms with her gloved hands in a motion akin to scratching. 

"Are you treating her for anything or leaving her to her misery?" Soichiro asked as they waited for her to decide whether to be truthful.

"Withdrawl," Near said, barely a glance at him. "She was miserable the first night here."

Misa swayed again, her focus intense on Sayu and he wondered what his daughter's face looked like. Did she look pleading, did she feel that way?

“He told me about a spot in the woods, to go looking for a place to dig and to take an apple. But – I don’t remember ever finding anything. He’ll be mad. He’ll be so mad at me.”

The words were a flurry, a frenzied burst as if she didn't push them out all at once they would never come at all.

“No one’s mad, Misa,” Sachiko told her. “No one’s mad at you at all.”

“I know it was important. He’d told me he’d love me if I did it but I didn’t and that’s why we’re here. I can’t stop thinking about it, if I had only done that, it was so important to him –“

Soichiro closed his eyes, knowing what his child had done.

“L had the one notebook making it impossible to use,” Near said, voice even and toneless. “So, he sent her to get the other. When she came back to see him with her memories he had her orchestrate all those deaths.”

“Most likely because she couldn’t remember L’s name to kill him. He refused to let her into the building,” Soichiro added, making himself look over at Near who seemed surprised. “She had seen him in person right before we took her into custody the first time. I remember now, when he went to see Light on campus, the day we arrested her. Light had tried to call her before she was out of sight but L had stolen her phone. If Light had been successful…”

It didn’t need to be said, what Light would have done with that name and Soichiro stared at his hands.

How much did L know before he died? It’s taken all of us years to put this together but he would have had it all in front of him, swept up in that brain of his. Surely, he was deeply suspicious, enough so that he had Watari remove his database so Light couldn’t kill allies and use the information stored in it to his advantage. When she killed all those people, he must have been thinking of all these little things, of what Light had been up to and I was too blind to see it then, comforted that a rule kept his guilt from being true. We told L to stop spying when we should have been encouraging it.

And Misa - he drug her down with him -

“Don’t forget who she is.”

Soichiro made himself look at Near who was studying him, Misa back to crying and being unable to speak no matter what Sayu or Sachiko said to her.

Should I be livid that you involved them, keep involving them, or upset that I never tried to tell them? How much was for their protection and not my own inability –

“Before she ever met him, she took a TV station hostage, killed people on national television, killed one of your own men.” It was Restor and Soichiro saw him watching only a few feet from Near. “She needed no encouragement. She was more than willing to do whatever she wanted to whomever she wanted before she ever met him.”

“I know – I just think of all these years he lead her on.”

“You used it as part of his cover for his confinements, both the isolation and when L would not allow him to leave his sight, yes?”

Soichiro nodded. “They could easily believe I would overreact to Light running off with a woman. I could live with them being upset with me if it kept them ignorant of what was going on. And I let her in the house after all of that. Even with everything, I let him keep doing that.”

“You did no so such thing,” Restor replied, his voice even. “Your son made a choice and you wanted to be involved in his life. With everything, the rules, your own men saying it was impossible for them to be guilty, you let it go, especially given her personality. Who would think she would be involved in any of this?”

“You didn’t see her original confinement. She never broke. At the end of the third day, she began to beg for death –“ he stopped, looking back at Ryuk who was watching him, curious. “Was Rem with her then?”

“If Rem was who was attached to the Death Note and if she owned one, then yes.”

“She was asking the Shinigami to kill her so she wouldn’t betray Light,” Restor muttered under his breath.

“We didn’t see it, we didn’t even know they were real, only that she had used that word, both of them had but in different contexts. Light –“

Turning as much as he could in his chair he took in Ryuk who was serious, such a strange look for him, words stuck in his throat, thinking of this creature with Light in that place before he turned it away. Of the change in Light that L had mulled over for so long, deeply troubling him.

You were there, participating in Light’s game, the setup so that L would die and we’d be blind. And I still thought, even then, no matter what was said –

“You know now,” Near said and Soichiro shook his head feeling foolish, knowing Near understood what he was thinking in these seconds. “You still turned him in, both of them, in the end. It was what you were afraid of when you had L confine you with him - that you didn’t know if you would kill him or help him escape, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

His eyes drifted down, unable to look back up to the screen that showed Sayu and Sachiko in that place speaking to a serial killer, trusting that they were at least safe for a while longer. That Misa hadn’t grown tired of them, of taking up time in Light’s life, and killed them was a cold comfort.

Was that part of the reason he never seemed to want to stay long with us? He didn’t want her to start thinking of disposing of his family so there would be no competition?

It was cruel, both of them were cruel and he felt unclean for ever having believed a word out of their mouths, for allowing himself to believe that Misa had been set up, that they had been wrong. That Light could never have been guilty because it was a physical impossibility. For missing so much that was right in front of him due to not wanting to believe he had raised a monster.

Sayu was trying to comfort Misa as best as she could and he wondered what his daughter would actually say after all of this, her brother lost because he had failed to protect them.

Chapter Text

It was late and he was trying to walk out his stiffness in these hallways that all looked the same that he could only keep track of by turns and slightly different scruff marks when Matsuda rounded a corner and came close to running him down.

“Chief! Sorry, I – didn’t – I was late,” the man stammered, rubbing his neck, eyes down, face flush.

“No harm,” Soichiro told him, “I’m still upright.”

“Sorry,” Matsuda said again, shuffling slightly as if unsure what to do with himself.

“Anything important?” he asked and Matsuda’s shoulders slumped as those eyes raised up, showing despondency.

“Nothing. We can’t seem to get close to whoever has it. And we know – it’s people just being announced too, it isn’t just something Light –“ Matsuda choked on his words, head back down. “I shouldn’t – I know I’m the last person you want to see right now.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Soichiro told him and it was only a little lie. He was slightly peeved that Matsuda had let Sayu browbeat him but given all the stress, the extra guilt Matsuda alone carried for what he considered a sin by letting him take the deal, he let it go. She would have found out, at least some of it when Light’s fate was decided. At some point, her brother was going to be lost to her, it was just sped up.

And Near was always going to meddle.

Matsuda still looked worn, his clothing presentable but Soichiro wouldn't doubt if someone told him it was from yesterday, and it wasn't hard to see that Matsuda's jacket hung loser than it had. Soichiro didn't think urging the man to care for himself would be heard as he tried to center his thoughts on the task at hand. 

“He’ll be found eventually,” Soichiro continued, keeping his voice even. “It had to have been someone Light would have been able to find and that does make the suspects finite. Eventually, we will uncover the truth.”

“But you –“ the words were cut off, Matsuda rubbing his arm and unable to look up.

“My time is already limited. If it happens, then we’ll know for sure that the rules he used were lies.”

“That shouldn’t be how we test them!”

Matsuda had finally looked up, eyes wet, face showing what he was feeling and Soichiro was at a loss as to what to tell him. The world wasn’t fair. He was aware Matsuda knew this. He was not blind to how the young man saw him, his own parents disregarding him, Matsuda never having been good enough in any capacity. The others at times went too far with how they carried on with him and Soichiro worried that it may have gotten worse in his absence. He hoped Ide was still the voice of reason in those times.

And he knew Matsuda was fond of Light, wanted to be like him, wishing he had the opportunities and the abilities his son had displayed. It was cold, how Light had betrayed them all, shown what he was and he felt Matsuda was taking it harder than the rest of the officers, having felt a kinship with Light, held him up as to be something to aspire to.

“I don’t blame you,” Soichiro said watching Matsuda when his own soul felt wrung out and his body hollow. “I don’t blame you for any of this.”

“When you had me drive you home after we got back to Japan…”

“I had figured out a good portion on the plane,” Soichiro finished after the pause had dragged on.

“It’s why you got sick.”

“Yes. Matsuda, you have to keep focused because I can’t finish this.”

“Don’t say that. We don’t know –“

“I’m injured,” Soichiro cut him off, Matsuda falling silent, back to shuffling his feet. “And, I don’t know how long I have. I need you to finish this for me, do you understand?”

“Yes.” A deep breath, Matsuda raised his head, hair slightly in his eyes but he looked more determined if not upset still. “I promise I will, that we will.”

“Good. You should get going. I bet they’re waiting on you.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding, moving on but Soichiro didn’t miss his look back before he was gone around the next corner.

It wasn’t a lie. Regardless if he was alive in seven days or not, he wasn’t the one out there, anymore.

Standing in the hallway with his left leg aching as it liked to do, he struggled to compose himself. A part of him wanted to go see Light and just talk to him. Not about Kira or what his child had done, but just talk to him. Try to see what Light thought about the world, how he saw things because somewhere along the line it had gone so terribly wrong. He remembered a young Light, eyes bright, declaring that he would be a police officer like his father, and Soichiro stared up at the false ceiling above him blinking rapidly.

That was a long time ago, before Light had sat by his bedside the first time and lied to him, when L was alive, claiming he would bring Kira to justice if he died.

Did he care then that I was so unwell? Was that big speech all just to keep his cover and he couldn’t give a damn outside of misleading us long enough to keep us permanently down? Was he telling me something else entirely that I will never understand?

“Your biggest hurdle is that you believe your son. I do not have that hindrance or that luxury.”

L’s words from long ago floated back to him, who had given repeated warnings about his death and what it would mean. A man whose life he hadn’t known and Soichiro wondered now if he had been actually cared for outside of perhaps Ruvie. Watari was an odd one, their lives tangled together in ways that Soichiro felt they would never understand as he acted as a servant when he was anything but one.

And he died at such a young age, staring up at Light because we wouldn’t listen. Because I refused to listen.

Slowly, he made his way back to the room he shared with his wife in this sprawling place, becoming conscious that he hadn’t seen the outside world in almost two weeks now. He wanted to blame his thoughts on that, thinking that maybe he should ask Near to at least let his family have fresh air as he opened the door to rejoin Sachiko, telling her the walk had helped.

Aizawa paced as they watched, a more comfortable chair in Near’s control center had been found for him and Soichiro tried to relax. They still had several days before whatever was coming, and nothing was going to be solved by being tense and worried every moment of the day.

Not that telling himself this helped him to cease doing exactly that.

Earlier, he’d had lunch with the Task Force, his team because they still saw him as the de facto leader no matter how inappropriate he felt that was at this point. This interview was something that had been discussed, how to proceed without tipping their hand to Light that they had already begun the rule test. Right now, they wanted to see if he attempted to make contact with anything or if Ryuk disappeared from the building for any length of time.

Fourteen miles could cover a lot of ground and it would be impossible to try to set up surveillance into all the nooks and crannies of the sprawling landscape and buildings flowing out from around this one.

It had taken him forty minutes into the lunch to finally understand that his men were awkward not because they were disgusted around him but that they simply were uncertain how to act.

“I’m angry,” he had told the room, so silent in that second that he could hear them breathing, imagined their heartbeats. “I am so angry that I am numb and I don’t know what to do with it. I apologize for endangering all of you because of what he’s done.”

“Light isn’t your fault,” Aizawa had near spat out in answer, enraged. “No one here blames you for that. All of us fell for his act. I’m the one who insisted he be freed because of those damn rules. Declared him innocent on that alone and that Amane was just a klutzy moron who got used. So, no, you aren’t to blame.”

Now, Aizawa was attempting to reign in his own anger as he stalked in front of Light’s cell, eschewing the chairs that had been placed there originally for him and Sachiko.

He had yet to go back to see his son. He didn’t know what he would do.

Just tell the truth. If you ever loved me, tell the truth, Light.

Light was sitting on the edge of his cot, elbows on his knees with his hands lose but he was intense, watching Aizawa with an air of being relaxed when he was anything but. He still looked the same, but Soichiro wouldn’t doubt by this point that he had lost some weight. The cameras were good enough to see his face, but not all the fine details helpfully hidden by his loose clothes. He had been informed that while Light did eat it wasn’t full meals.

He did that at home when he was bothered by something. Sachiko used to get so upset over it because if something was really digging away at him he could go without food for a few days, at least what was served to him. I wonder if she remembers that November when we believe he found this. I vaguely recall a stomach bug he had but I don’t know if it was before, after, or during that first week anymore. I should have thought of it sooner.

“Why now?” Light finally asked and Aizawa took a few more steps, glancing over. “Why all this focus on the rules?”

“Don’t you think some things have changed?”

Light shrugged. “You seemed to think words written in ink that didn’t exist on earth in a book capable of ending life as being true when you ordered L to free me. But, now dad decides that it doesn’t add up and demands we test them after he yelled at L repeatedly that he couldn’t?”

“What your father says makes a lot of sense, Light. About how Misa knew your name, the way Kira operates –“

“And what else is there?” Light sighed, leaning back, frustrated. “L became hyper-focused on me from the beginning. He had a theory and instead of working to prove it true, declared everything else false. And in doing so, erased any other leads or information that could have possibly existed.”

“Are you saying that he intentionally compromised his investigation from the start?”

“Maybe unintentionally and he might have. I don’t know. That’s the point. I don’t know, and neither do you.”

Aizawa finally stopped pacing, hands behind his back as he stood squarely in front of Light. “And the piece of the Note we found in your watch? Your mother touched it herself and was able to see Ryuk.”

His son’s shoulders slumped forward more, a sign of concession, as though he was giving up but Soichiro knew better, Near seemed to, too. Near was sitting on the floor, carefully building a house of cards, a few toys scattered in a semi-circle around him, and given his baggy clothes and smaller stature, he truly did look like a young child, not helped by the mask obscuring his face.

After speaking to him, it was clear that he was anything but as Near watched the screen intently.

“Because of Sayu.”

“You’re pulling her into this –“

“No, you don’t understand. When I let dad take the book, I worried about not only who we were giving it to, but what we were giving up.”

“So you planned to use it?”

“I don’t know. I wanted the option. I didn’t want to be that powerless because of what we were doing.” Light’s voice was even, far more controlled than he had been.

“I would guess he’s adjusted and doesn’t have constant shocks to his system,” Near said, glancing over and Soichiro nodded. “That his mother and now sister are aware of his crimes shattered part of his narrative and he reacted accordingly. This is the Light Yagami I expected to see from the beginning – smooth and spinning his own story that will sound completely reasonable.”

“And the needle?” Aizawa asked.

“Something I learned from Rem.” Light cocked his head, hair sliding across his forehead giving him an inquisitive look and it made Soichiro shiver with how many times his son had done this to him. “That Shinigami didn’t give up much, but did say that as long as whatever was used was legible, it was allowed.”

“And you decided on blood?”

“I decided based on space.” Light exhaled, never dropping his eyes. “I felt, that if the need to use it ever truly arose, it would be desperate, more than enough to use that.”

“Convenient that all those security tapes, that footage of this supposed conversation of a near-mute Shinigami that I’ve been told sang a convincing chorus of ‘I don’t know’ was wiped out,” Near said, twirling his hair around his finger. “Like he was banking on L doing that to provide his own cover for questions with difficult and uncomfortable answers.”

“Why didn’t you just tell us to begin with that you wanted to do this?” Aizawa asked on screen.

“You would have been appalled. All of you would have been. Just your reaction now is why I was hesitant to say what I had thought at the time. There’s only one person I ever thought I would use that on, and it felt foolish to be left on unequal ground.”

“And when your father confronted you over it?”

Light scoffed, almost a laugh. “What did you expect me to say? Anything I would say would be wrong, my mother was dragged into this and upset, and I didn’t lie. Near had every opportunity to sabotage my watch, that neither mom nor dad should just believe things handed to them no matter how much all of you want to suddenly trust a stranger.

“It didn’t occur to you that it was wrong?”

“It didn’t occur to you that we’ve been losing for years?”

“Most likely because you’ve designed the game we’ve been unknowingly playing to get that outcome.”

Light curled his lip, amused. “Talking to dad again?”

“He never thought I’d turn him in,” Soichiro said softly, Near making a small sound of assent as Restor went to Near holding out a phone.

“No, I’d imagine he felt if he kept you feeling doubt, enough uncertainty that you wouldn’t go against him. Plus, given your emotional state and your guilt, he probably believed that you most likely would be dead before you became a problem,” Near said, taking the phone. “Yes?”

Soichiro dropped his eyes from the screen for a moment, drawing in a deep breath to clear his head. It was the truth but it was still hard to hear. The thoughts were still there, even if not prevalent now as his death would solve very little.

Near would probably point out that his willingness to die testing these rules was a testament to his inability to cope with so much of this, let alone the guilt he was slowly drowning under even in this minute that people were dead because he had valued his daughter above them.

“Your daughter is wanting to see her brother,” Near said, dragging him away from his thoughts.

Absolutely not, he almost said but stopped himself, seeing Aizawa back to pacing.

“I doubt Aizawa will allow her to stay if he goes back to what he was doing,” Near added.

I shouldn’t. I should forbid this, for what little it is worth. Near is still going to let her in, he’s just being polite to make me think it’s an option –

“I will deny her if you want,” Near said smoothly as though he was mind-reading. “But I warn you, it may hurt her more in the end. He is calm, closer to what she knows.”

Restor claims that Near hasn’t been including them out of cruelty or to get information, or at least not solely for the latter. He has a point, but –

“And you’re hoping that seeing her will rattle him.”

“Of course. It seems to. He gets the most emotional with her.” Near was watching him as Soichiro fought with his own conscience about letting his little girl do this. “They were close, weren’t they?”

“Yes. Until about his second year of high school.”

“What happened then?”

“I’m not sure,” he answered, hearing Aizawa ask something but not really caring anymore and Light simply shrugged. “He got more distant then. A lot of his friends when he was younger went to other schools. He buried himself in his school work, stopped playing sports –“

“Essentially cut himself off.”

“He’d still help her, they’d bicker, but it wasn’t the same.” He sighed, running a hand over his mouth before adjusting his glasses. “As long as Aizawa is there, she can go.”

“Let her go in but remind her to not mention anything about the rule testing. Anything else she is free to speak of.”

“You are assuming I told her,” Soichiro said as Near hung up and handed the phone back to Restor.

“I’m assuming you saw the damage already done at this point by keeping them in the dark.”

All he could do was nod, though Sayu didn’t know that Light may be directly responsible. Careful wording, so she understood that if the other Kira wasn't found in time it may end in his death. Telling her that her brother had arranged for his death in order to free himself was simply too much. It may always be too much even after they had a concrete answer.

He wondered if Near worried that if they didn’t know if Light would have tried to use them in his own schemes.

The door was being opened, they could hear it, Aizawa started before he turned, Light puzzled. Everything about Aizawa stiffened and Soichiro knew she was there.

“I don’t know if you should be here,” Aizawa told her.

“They said I could. For a few minutes.”

At the sound of her voice, Light stood, came forward as far as he could before the length of his chains stopped him.

Sayu came into view on the camera they were watching, her hair loose around her shoulders, fingers clutching at the sweater jacket she wore, pulling it around her. Her shoes made no noise as she approached, cautious, shoulders hunched and her body like she expected to be hit at any moment.

“Hey,” Light said gently. “You didn’t need to come.”

“I wanted to see you. I was worried.” Her voice was so soft it was hard to hear as she came to a stop a few feet from where Aizawa stood. A glance up at him and he gave her a nod as she refocused on Light. “You aren’t eating enough. Is the food bad that they give you?”

“No,” Light answered and he swallowed loud enough for the camera to pick it up. “It’s stress, that’s all. Not much of an appetite.”

“You always did that. I won’t tell mom.”  She swayed and Soichiro could see her pulling at her sweater more. “I remember one time you didn’t eat for three days a few months after you started high school. She got mad, remember? Because you didn’t know what to do about that cheater.”

“Yeah,” Light said, obviously uncertain. Soichiro was stunned his son had ever faced this kind of problem. “When I figured out that scholarship guy cheated off of me.”

“Did he cheat again? He didn’t, did he?”

“No.” Light let out a small laugh. “You were right, talking to him instead of just turning him in.”

How little do I know about my own children?

“He seemed nice.” Sayu shuffled on her feet, uncertain, before she continued. “I remember, a month before New Year’s when you were preparing for all your tests that you didn’t eat for a week.”

“What?” Light was startled, taking another step forward despite the strain he had to be feeling from the chains pulled taunt.

“You would just push food around on your plate when you ate with mom and me, excuse yourself, and told her you’d just eat in your room. But you weren’t.”

“What makes you think I wasn’t?”

“Because you lost weight,” she shot back, upset. “And when I went to ask you for help with my math, you were in the shower and I –“

“And you looked where you shouldn’t be.” Light’s voice was sharp but there was something underlying it that made Soichiro think of fear. “I don’t go through your things.”

Sayu glanced over again to Aizawa who said something they couldn’t make out and she held her head higher. “Because I tell you things.”

Light scoffed, shaking his head before retreating a couple of steps but he was clearly unnerved.

“Interesting,” Near said, still twirling his hair as they watched. “She knows him, probably uncomfortably well, at least in his view. She found the food he was hiding to get your wife to leave him alone and I would guess you had long hours and let him lie to you because he wasn’t overly sick yet.”

“Yes.” It was all he could say and Soichiro clenched his jaw, disliking this.

“I would also say he’s feeling actual remorse over lashing out at her before, along with some residual fear over her almost finding out his secret back then.”

Near’s words carved him out even more, the idea of Sayu being around any of this when she had been so young, Ryuk lumbering around their home unseen, and Soichiro forced himself to pay attention to keep his own thoughts from swallowing him.

Was he suffering, at the start of this, before he lost his soul?

“Did you just come to nag me to eat?” Light asked, voice clipped.

“No, I –“ she stopped, back to shifting on her feet.

“It’s alright,” Aizawa told her. “Say what you came here to say.”

It was a well-practiced tone, probably earned through years of dealing with his own children and it relaxed Sayu, her attention falling back to Light.

“Why did you let dad make that deal?”

“I didn’t. I didn’t want him to. I told him not to do it.” Light wiped at his mouth, the farthest up his hands could reach when there was slack and he shifted, unhappy. “Matsuda offered, he wanted to do it, despite the risks, but dad wouldn’t let him.”

She looked up at Aizawa who sighed. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Why would –“ she stopped, her shoulders slanting forward, a small little sound coming out of her. “Because of me.”

“Sayu –“ Light began but she paced away from the cell. Soichiro could see her face and it broke his heart.

“He had to come save me and he didn’t forgive himself. It’s my fault –“

“It isn’t your fault!” Light’s voice was thunderous and angry, so very angry as his son tried to get himself under control. “Sayu, listen to me. What happened isn’t your fault. No matter who I am or what someone accuses me of being, that doesn’t make it okay to do anything necessary to get the answers. Even if I was guilty, it doesn’t make it okay and it doesn’t make it your fault. What dad did isn't your fault.”

She shook her head as Aizawa came over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"If I just hadn't gone -"

“It was never your fault, Sayu," Aizawa interrupted, but her tense body showed she didn't believe him. "No one blames you. Especially not your father.”

I never blamed you. 

“But he had to give up that thing and he’s never been the same.” She was upset but there was something else in her as she turned towards Aizawa more. “I’m so angry,” she whispered. “I’m so angry all the time.”

“Has she been to therapy?” Near asked.

“Yes. And I had hoped it was helping some.”

“And you weren’t there,” Sayu told Light who balked at her low tone. “I got home and you were nowhere. I was all alone with mom who cried and dad who barely talked and you didn’t come.” 

Her words were fast, punched out, and Soichiro did not miss how Light flinched under the weight that he had abandoned them in her eyes.

"Sayu -"

"I thought maybe, after everything, you were afraid of losing us. That if you came it would be worse later. Matsuda-san thought that too, but now - now - "

"I wasn't trying to avoid you."

"Then why were you never there!" Her voice was loud, piercing, raising chills along Soichiro's flesh.

“I’m sorry, Sayu,” Light said, looking away from her. “I was consumed with work –“

She turned from him again and he stopped, seeming to understand it was a poor excuse.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Light finally said as she tried to control herself, Aizawa seemingly at a loss as to what to do to even provide marginal comfort that would help in the face of this. “It was our fault, we were involved in the case and Mello went after you to get what he wanted.”

“And now, you’re here and dad’s going to die.”

Light rocked on his heels as Soichiro could only helplessly stare at the screen, Near absolutely motionless, but a card in his hand was bent.

“What?”

“He made that deal –“

“That doesn’t mean he dies right now,” Aizawa tried but she pulled away.

“Half the life he had left is gone. He was hurt so badly. And – and, it’s just the way mom and dad are, the way they’re acting. Everything, Light, everything feels like he’s about to die.” She was at the bars, hands wrapping around them as Light took a step back, shocked.

“I –I don’t know. It may be something with his health –“

“They keep saying that he’s the same. But – I can’t explain it. I just feel like it’s coming. I can barely sleep and I have nightmares where he’s just gone, or dead, or dies in front of me –“

“Sayu,” Light tried, voice soft. “As far as I know, he’s alright for right now. No one has said anything to me, and I think they’d probably tell me that, at least.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Light said and there was a strange helplessness in his voice. “I don’t know if he’s done something foolish –“

“There it is,” Near growled, low, and Soichiro felt a chill all through him. “Been waiting for that.”

“Foolish?” Sayu was repeating, almost pressed against the bars.

“He made that deal,” Light told her. “I don’t know if he’s done anything else.”

“So he could.”

“I don’t know. I’m saying I don’t know.” Light turned away from her, seeming to shudder slightly and it confirmed Soichiro’s worst fears of what his son may have done. “None of this is your fault, Sayu. He makes his own choices.”

“That doesn’t matter if he’s dead!”

“I know.” Light’s voice was soft as he composed himself, his face hard to read when he looked towards her again. “I’m sorry it’s like this, that you have to deal with the fallout alone. And I’m sorry I told you what I did the last time you were here. I shouldn’t have.”

She stepped away, back to pulling her sweater around her, her whole body trying to be small. “I don’t know what to do, oniichan.”

“Just stay with mom, alright?” Light actually turned to Aizawa. “Could she stay with your wife?”

It was a surprising request that his son would think of that and it was clear Aizawa was unprepared as well.

“That’s up to Near,” Aizawa answered. “I don’t have control over that but maybe a different arrangement for both your sister and mother is possible.”

Light nodded, seeming to find some kind of relief in this. “Could you ask for them? I know you can’t force it but being here hasn’t been great for them.”

“I will,” Aizawa said. “Sayu, do you want to go see your mother?”

“I –“ she stopped, taking a breath. “I need to know something.”

“What?”

“They said that there was evidence against Misa. That they found it on those tapes that were sent to the news station that was broadcasting all those Kira threats. That the rules they found later cleared both her and you.”

“Yes.” Light’s voice was soft, and Soichiro felt his son was wary as Near straightened out the card he had bent, knee drawn up to his chest as they watched. 

“Why did she come that night to our house?”

“She saw me in Aoyama when I was there with Matsuda for part of the investigation,” Light answered, voice still gentle and Soichiro felt his son was truthful because he sensed Sayu knew a good bulk of the story by now.

“And she followed you home?”’

“Something like that.”

“Didn’t it make you nervous?”

“It’s – it’s complicated,” Light said. “I’d like to not go into my relationships while incarcerated and being filmed.”

“You don’t love her, do you?”

Light sighed, sitting back on his cot, arms draped across his thighs. “That’s not – it’s hard to explain, Sayu. I told her a long time ago that I couldn’t love her the way she wanted me to.”

That was shocking. Near made a soft sound as Sayu drifted closer to the bars again, Aizawa right beside her, seemingly prepared to rip her away if he needed to. As though Light could be dangerous, and Soichiro supposed his son, even like this, still was.

“She seems to think you love her.”

“I’m not surprised. She did this during our last confinement.” A low sound, Light resigned. “It’s appearances. She wants a certain appearance and I match that.”

“And you care if you have a model for a girlfriend? Since when?”

“It gets people off my back. She accepts my working hours and I play the dutiful boyfriend. It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, it’s just how it’s been.”

“Certain benefits,” Sayu ground out, looking disgusted. “And you’re – no. I don’t want to hear you lie anymore. I want to go back,” she told Aizawa who nodded, and they walked out of frame.

Light remained seated, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand, frustrated, but he didn’t call out after her or try to explain further as they listened to the door close with its customary slam signaling his daughter was gone from there, at least for now.

“I don’t believe he was all the way lying there,” Near said, thoughtful, back to playing with his hair. “Do you?”

“No.” It was a strange thing to admit to, Soichiro trying to relax in his chair. “I’ve often wondered why he’s with her. While he tries to give the appearance of being happy, I’ve often thought he’s been anything but.”

“It makes far more sense he stays with her because she has your eyes.”

“It does.” It was a terrible notion that settled over him like the truth as he watched his son thinking, silent and upset.

"It may be that he is planning on distancing himself from Amane if she does break."

Soichiro nodded. It was not a far-fetched idea. The unpredictable nature of all this, how far it was out of his control. Light had no way to control the information Misa was saying or given.  It was a possibility that Light was slowly creating a backup plan to create a net for himself in case she said something incriminating.

Though he did not doubt that Light most likely did not love her, at least not in the way he should, given the status of their relationship.

“Based on some of Sayu’s other statements during her last visit alone, it gives the impression that Amane is very jealous and very obsessed.”

“You think she’s truly threatened other women?”

“And him,” Near said and it shouldn’t be as shocking as it felt. “I wouldn’t put it past her to do that and him needing to keep her in line. I bet, originally, when he found someone else willing to fill her spot and was able to get her to give up her book, he was relieved. I would be. Anyone would be because she’s not only a liability to him but a danger. The downfall is that he can’t just kill her. It would have raised too many questions. I would bet he’s been working on doing it as soon as possible. Even just the fragments she has are too damning.”

“Like when he sent her to get the other book.”

“Yes, we can’t prove it was for that, but it just buries him deeper.” Near sighed, leaning his head back. “You should go spend time with your family.”

He nodded, rising, Restor opened the door for him and Soichiro made his way back, finding Aizawa speaking to Sayu in her room.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get your – Yagami-san,” Aizawa said, seeing him at the threshold, bowing slightly. “She’s upset.”

“I know. It’s alright. Thank you for being with her.”

“Of course. We’ll keep you informed if we make any progress.”

Aizawa excused himself, Sayu’s eyes widening as Soichiro limped his way to a chair, hating that simple things were so complicated for him now.

“You were watching?” It was accusatory, as though planned and he held up his free hand.

“I was watching Aizawa speak to him. I didn’t know you had gone to see him.”

“Oh.” Her eyes dropped and Soichiro went past the chair and wrapped his arm around his daughter.

“I wish you would have told me what you were feeling.”

“I didn’t know how,” she whispered against his shoulder, her hands caught in his shirt. “I didn’t know how to say anything and it just became harder and harder.”

“I’m angry, too.” It’s getting worse every day, he thought as she pressed closer.

“Are you going to die?”

“I don’t know.” That depends on Light. “I can tell you that I don’t blame you for anything. I will always love you. Both of you.”

“No matter what he’s done?”

“Yes.”

She was quiet, lost, and he held her, staring up at the ceiling wishing he had seen the signs she had, wishing he hadn’t put his duty before his children.

Chapter Text

The sun was setting on the ninth day and they were no closer to finding Light’s accomplice as he got undressed to shower. Trying to follow the leads proved harder than they thought as he turned on the water. It may not happen in time.

The heat at least alleviated some of his soreness as he made himself focus on being clean over the clutter his mind was building up with each passing day.

A rustle, the curtain moving causing him to start before Sachiko joined him, a covering over her hair. It was late and she always hated to wash it at night, complaining she could never get it right the next day.

They were quiet, her hands taking the soap, washing him, running her fingers over his scars, the more recently earned ones and the ones that he’d had for years. One, caused by a suspect fifteen years ago that he went after that had a concealed pen knife that had gotten jammed between his ribs. The doctor said he was lucky he only needed a dozen stitches and didn’t end up with collapsed lung. She hadn’t felt he’d been lucky, her eyes worried as her hand had fluttered over it that night, telling him she hated not knowing if he would come home.

Another set was from broken glass – an explosion from a high-profile case involving a robbery ring that had rigged a bomb. They had found out it existed beforehand, it was just a surprise to everyone, including the thieves, how powerful the blast had ended up being and he had spent hours sitting on a gurney getting glass picked out of his flesh, his wife, again, not amused.

Why did you put up with me? he wanted to ask but couldn’t as she cleaned them both.

“The man we picked, he was starving and suffering in his own filth,” he told her, seeing her pause, watching him.

“What did he do wrong?”

“Nothing. He was dying for nothing.”

She nodded, her face pained as she moved closer to him and he held her under the spray of water.

“If we can’t find who has it –“ his voice faltered and she pressed her face against his shoulder. “I love you. I don’t know why you stayed all these years after what I’ve put you through.”

She kissed his neck before pulling back, hand on his face. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

Shaking his head she stopped him from looking away, his hands on her hips.

“You can’t save the whole world. It was always your biggest fault, trying to do that,” she told him and it was words she had said when they were young and he had worked too much, like Matsuda taking every failure personally.

I should be able to save our children.

The water was off and she helped him dry, leading him to the bed, their skin still damp as he laid down with her against him, her mouth on his.

“I love you, Soichiro.”

Law enforcement they thought, or perhaps a lawyer or other personnel who had access to the courts. It was something and in many ways, it made sense given who Kira was, and what he claimed to espouse despite the contradictions, the obvious blaring fact that murder was still murder and many who died had already harmed and had been locked away. Trapped, animals caged in windowless rooms and Soichiro made himself focus on keeping his feet under him on his way back to the room.

Some of the deaths were obscure, cases from years ago but there did not seem to be one key person that tied them all together, whether justice, officer, or lawyer – all of them scattered across multiple prefectures, offices, courtrooms, prisons. It did help bar out the public in general – whoever was operating currently as Kira had access and/or knowledge of all these cases in Japan.

There was always the possibility that Light had chosen all of these with his position for his successor. But it was so many, the cases something his son would have had to look up by hand as many were back when he was in high school. There was always a chance of Light’s control seeping through this far, but for now, it seemed like whoever was carrying the title was making these choices alone.

We would be too lucky if it simply pointed at one person, Soichiro thought grimly as he rounded the last corner in this all-white maze, Ryuk forever in tow.

And he stopped because he heard his wife softly speaking, and he cautiously took a step forward, not wanting to disturb her if she was meeting with someone. Straining, he tried to understand what the conversation was about but he began to get the gist before he caught sight of them on the loveseat through the gap between the hinges of the half-open door.

Sayu was sitting beside her mother, curled up, head on her shoulder as Sachiko read to her. His daughter’s eyes were drooping, hours of lost sleep that could never be caught up on as Sachiko’s warm voice narrated whatever novel they had found.

When he had first brought Sayu back after her ordeal and she had lapsed into silence, Sachiko had read to her, an activity that Sayu had seemed to welcome. Before that, it had been so long since he had seen either of his children be read to – years – not since they were much younger and didn’t care that it could be seen as an embarrassment.

Watching for a minute and then he silently turned, making his way back to where he knew there were a few chairs scattered down a side hall he could rest in for a while. Ryuk cast him a look but he shook his head and the Shinigami stayed silent, a glance back, and Soichiro knew it didn’t understand.

They should have these extra few minutes. A buried part of him whispered he was selfish, that he didn’t want to be met with their eyes full of unvoiced pleas to not die, to not leave them, no matter how remote his survival was by this point. He knew they tried to hide the stress, the idea that he may simply die and there was nothing that could be done. That silent terror that it could be at any hour now, that he would cease, and they would be alone in this world with all the terrible knowledge that his death brought in stark, undeniable relief.

The terrible burden of hope that this would be overcome would remain until time ran out.

He sat in one of the chairs he found, leaning back, trying to relax, and knew that state was forever beyond his reach.

No, they could have a few more minutes of peace. Enough was to come today alone that they earned what little calm they could scrap together, secluded and away from the reality that was closing around them with an endless hunger for suffering.

Soichiro let his own eyes slip closed, remembering how soothing his wife’s voice was, and waited.

“I see we’re still not showing faces. My dad still making you nervous?”

Light was sitting on his cot as they watched in a small room set aside for part of the NPA Task Force, Soichiro sitting with his men. Sachiko was beside him this time, Sayu actually sleeping with a note left for her as to where they were. Ruvie had promised to keep an eye out for her in case she woke before it was over.

Restor was sitting in one of the chairs across from Light, looking relaxed, just like he had during their previous little talk. Soichiro had few doubts that it was false, a front, but it still made it easier as the man appeared used to hearing it.

“I have no issue with your father seeing my face.”

“Yet you keep it covered.” Light let out a small laugh. “I believe you.”

“I, as well as most here, have an issue of being seen in any way that you or your conspirator could use.”

“And if he still had access to a Death Note?”

“I still wouldn’t have an issue with it.” Restor stretched a leg and Soichiro squeezed Sachiko’s hand. “I doubt your father would ever use it unless he lost his mind or under very specific circumstances. He’s proven that much. It’s why you would trust him to have the eyes, he wouldn’t just kill you. Unlike Amane.”

“You’d think she would?” Light actually did openly laugh.

“I wouldn’t doubt that both of you threatened each other. I bet she’s unused to not getting her way by looks alone with you. She threatens people around you, doesn’t she?”

Light shook his head and it was obvious he was amused and Soichiro knew nothing was going to be the truth. “Misa is different, I’ll grant you that. She worries that people will find her out. That I’ll see something I think is better. Even after years of putting up with her, she still thinks that.”

“Probably from years of being in a relationship that it is a lie.”

“True,” Light allowed, leaning back, his chains rattling as they shifted with his movements. “I never lied to her.”

“Really? You never promised her things you couldn’t give her?”

“No.” Light’s tone was cold. “When you let Sayu in here the first time, when she confessed she had listened to our conversation that night, even then I was telling the truth.”

“Which still leaves the question of why you ever let her in,” Restor pointed out and Light shrugged. “Is your distaste just because you don’t like Amane, or is it a deeper issue?”

“What business is it of yours?” Light was defensive and Soichiro frowned, not certain himself. “Maybe I simply don’t want a relationship.”

“Ever?”

“Look, I have to put up with being accused of being Kira, but things that don’t matter, I don’t have to explain to you. After you allowed my mother and sister to be dragged into this. They have nothing to do –“

“They care for you. This may be the last time they see you.”

“Planning to just execute me?”

“No. Only that there is a high probability that we will have to turn you over to people who undoubtedly will.”

Light sighed, stretching. “L, the real one not your cheap knock-off, threatened me all the time with this under the guise of simply talking about Kira’s fate. I always wanted to ask him what he thought it would get him. I mean, really, why would I come to confess if I was guilty if being hanged was the only outcome? What do you think it will get you?”

Restor’s voice was calm and Soichiro felt Sachiko tense beside him as the man said, “I won’t tell you something that blatantly false.”

“You’ll just lie about everything else. I’ve been wondering when mom’s going to make an appearance at one of these. I mean, you got Sayu –“

“She came outside of our knowledge.” Restor was still calm. “I took the call when she came to the door and Near granted permission, mostly because Detective Aizawa was still here and you wouldn’t be allowed to abuse her.”

“I wouldn’t.” Light was angry, face tight, it was obvious he wanted to stand but he stopped himself. “Am I not allowed to be angry when I see my sister crying having been told who knows what with that idiot next to her? You’d be upset, too.”

Ide put a hand on Matsuda’s shoulder as Soichiro curbed a comment to try to reassure the man.

He doesn’t need this. I hope Light hasn’t been telling him he’s stupid all this time.

“I would be rattled that she knew my secret, finally. I would be concerned if she hated me.”

Light let out a low noise, something akin to frustration. “I’m upset she’s been wrapped up in this massive conspiracy. And she’s obviously still being told lies.”

“What lies? That we plan to test the rules? That it will be your father who writes?”

“Why would you even let him do that?”

Sachiko was looking at him and Soichiro wrapped his arm around her, leaning closer to whisper, “He doesn’t know what actually happened yet.”

She nodded. “To see if he set you up.”

Tears were in the corners of her eyes and he kissed the top of her head.

Did you ever love me, Light? Were you always a monster incapable of this and we just ignored all the signs?

“You could just tell the truth,” Restor was saying and Soichiro knew he had missed something as Sachiko leaned into him. “If you care about him –“

“What? Condemn myself in order to keep him from his own insanity?” Light’s voice was brittle as he did finally stand, walking a few steps. “I’m not lying when I say I love him. He was my hero until I finally grew up enough to know better. But I’m not sentencing myself to die in a lie because he won’t back down. I can’t. I’d do a lot of things, but I can’t do that.”

“Is it because you’re afraid of being executed or that you’d have to admit you’re a murderer? That is what Kira ultimately is.”

Light turned his head towards Restor and his face was unreadable, Soichiro had no hope to know what he was thinking at that moment.

“If that is what you want to believe.”

“Did he –“ she whispered and Soichiro shook his head.

“It could be construed in many ways,” he whispered back, seeing his men around them shift, uncomfortable. Having her here had been a compromise as she wanted to see Light without being in front of him right now, and at this point, given what Near had allowed her to know in the beginning, they couldn’t shield her from Light’s antics.

If she was in front of Light right now, would she tell him to tell the truth? Would she actually call him that to his face?

“I’m merely here to tell you what is going to happen,” Restor said, voice easy. “You asked to know what is happening with your family and we are keeping with that.”

“Because you’re hoping I’ll incriminate myself.” Light let out a mirthless laugh. “You’re hoping that if you mislead me enough that I’ll buckle, that I’ll proclaim myself guilty, and then you can pack up this part, blame me for what’s still happening. And it’s still happening, isn’t it? There are still people being killed every day while I sit here and rot. It’s the same deal L did – keep me away, lie to me, restrain me to the point where I can barely take a step and the killings still go on and on.”

“Sadly, you killed Higuchi before he could tell anyone the truth. And I would bet he would have told them he was approached to continue Kira’s mission. Which he did, with a few added benefits to himself.”

“Apparently, Kira should have picked better. I doubt he was happy.”

“I doubt you had much time or control over who posed as you,” Restor countered. “With Amane’s sudden arrest, you knew your time was limited, L having stolen your one way to get his name out from under your nose.”

Light shook his head, smoothing away any shock he had over being told about how L had found out Light carried a whole other phone to call her with that day. While not solid proof, it was fairly damning with all the rest, especially given that it had been Misa’s phone originally. His son was many things, Soichiro mused, but he wouldn’t take that phone for something like that unless it helped shelter him from suspicion and not about being in a relationship, given Misa’s antics up to that point.

He wished he had forbidden her entry into his house, that he had gone home and been told what had happened the first time, Sachiko only telling him over the phone that an improperly dressed girl had come by to see Light. At the time, he had never connected it to the second Kira, not having her name yet or knowing how she liked to behave until later.

“You must have found someone good to push the duties of Kira onto this time,” Restor continued, voice soft. “As much as you probably got off on having someone so blindly devoted, you don’t strike me as being someone who wants to share yourself with anyone.”

“What are you implying?”

“That she had the eyes like your father. That you used her misplaced love, or rather obsession over you, to get her to give up not only the book but her eyes and life she sacrificed for you –“

Life – Misa would have had to sacrifice her lifespan for those eyes and she would have had to in order to kill the way the second Kira did. But her life is long, longer than it should be at any rate. I didn’t put it together, only that I could see it. Have I made a mistake? Have I been wrong –

He looked behind him, seeing Ryuk lingering by the door, arms loose by his sides, and bored by all of this until he saw Soichiro’s look. A sigh, petulant.

“Yes, So-chi?”

“Misa’s lifespan –“ he stopped, licked his lips as Ryuk studied him, his mind going to Rem. The Shinigami had died right after they thought Misa had begun killing again. “What happens when a Shinigami kills to preserve a human’s life?”

“What do you mean?” Ryuk asked but it was obvious he knew something, the rest of the men in the room along with Sachiko focused on him.

“I mean, is it just that the Shinigami dies, or does something else happen?”

Ryuk was silent for a moment, seeming to weigh his answer and Soichiro couldn’t tell if it was due to any loyalty it could feel towards Light, or at least to the “game” Light was playing, or if it didn’t know, perhaps couldn’t say openly.

“To my knowledge, the human saved is given the maximum lifespan of the human, or the remaining years of the Shinigami, whichever is the lesser.”

“Rem,” Aizawa said, standing, “killed them for Misa. Light set her up to compel Rem.”

“And made Misa feel that she had to make the deal again.” Soichiro paused as the rest stared at him. “If a person with the eyes gives up ownership, they lose everything, the sacrificed life, and the eyes. To get them again after reclaiming a book, you have to deal with half of your remaining life left after the first time.”

“That would have been, maybe a dozen years,” Ide said, horrified. “She did that for him. He must have told her something good to get her to cut her life down so much. Unless she always planned on Rem dying for her.”

Something deep inside him told Soichiro that no, Misa, in all her obsession, would have simply done it to please Light.

It was cold, so unutterably cold. He could still see Rem in his mind, that strange creature of bones and withered flesh, paler than white, its yellow eye studying them, refusing to say anything and they had wondered if it was just being difficult. It had been, in a way.

She went and got the book and made the deal, probably with Ryuk, and killed all those people. Light always had it planned. From the moment he touched that book, L was already gone.

“She came and saw Light there, while we were with L, didn’t she?” Mogi asked, frowning. “Would that creature have seen her lifespan drop?”

A look back at Ryuk brooding told them yes, she would have as Aizawa excused himself to go tell Near, Sachiko staring at him to explain.

“We think that the first Shinigami we met was close to Misa and was set up to die in order to get rid of L and Watari.”

“And you think Light set it up.” Her voice was bitter, broken as she shook her head. “Is there anything he hasn’t done?”

I don’t know. “We don’t know for sure. It’s just a theory, but her life is longer than it should be if she made that deal.”

“Perhaps he’s telling the truth.”

Soichiro licked his lips. “She was always connected. It’s too big of a coincidence, everything. Even he says he didn’t love her. We know Rem was close to one of them. We know that he sent her out with an apple to dig up something she can’t remember anymore with promises to love her.”

She leaned into him and he wrapped an arm around her, wishing she wasn’t involved at all but not knowing what he would have told her when the time came for Light’s death. There would be no freedom for his son this time, no misplaced dedication and fatherly love to help drag him out of the pit he had locked himself in. They knew how it worked, Light couldn’t bank on their ignorance misleading them.

He barely paid attention to the rest of the conversation until Restor got a phone call and he listened intently.

“Interesting,” he finally said, hanging up. “It was Misa, not you, that the first Shinigami was attached to. It’s why you refrained from killing her originally when all signs pointed to Kira doing just that. Even if she wasn’t a threat, she was going against Kira’s ideals and that had to rankle. But that Shinigami, it would have killed you if you tried to get rid of Amane.”

“What makes you even assume that?”

“Because your father told us Misa’s life span is long and we just found out a Shinigami dying for a human restores life lost.”

They saw Light’s eyes widen before he turned away from the camera to take hold of himself. “You make me involved in this.”

“You had her set up the Kira killings, restart them so L was always suspicious, knowing that it would force this Shinigami to kill in order to protect her. I had wondered why you leaped right back into the Kira killings, thought maybe it was a compulsion or an obsession, or perhaps you were just that cocky. It was never anything of the sort. You had it set up so the one person who was still suspicious of you, sure you were guilty, would have no choice but to think that. And he couldn’t be allowed to test the rules. There would have been a workaround eventually – either by simply stealing the book to send off, or blatantly telling you to your face. You needed him dead and you had the means to do it, manipulating everyone, even a Shinigami to think it had no choice in order to save a human it cared for that you put in danger again, to do what you wanted.

“Then you kept her around because she could tell you names. It’s how you killed all of Mello’s cronies during the raid, right? It’s how you were able to guarantee to the Task Force that they would be walking into an almost empty building. You just couldn’t bank on Mello setting up the bomb. You had no way of knowing that he would do something like that. Though, you worried that your father couldn’t go through with the murder. I bet you hoped it wouldn’t come down to it.”

“It’s a nice story you have for yourself,” Light said easily, shifting his weight. “Puts everything on my shoulders with no way to show I’m innocent. At this rate, we could twist it all up and make almost anyone guilty.”

“Most don’t keep coming up in a mass murder and serial killer investigation. Tell me, did that Shinigami think you would care for Amane? Near is of the theory, and from what we understand, L was too, that you would have killed her if you had the option when she first surfaced. Knowing the Shinigami was willing to die for her makes it clearer why she lived. Did the Shinigami trust you?”

Light shrugged, keeping himself relaxed as he leaned forward still seated on his cot, foot tapping a few times. “How am I to know the thoughts of a Shinigami? “

“You had this creature in your web. We thought it was defending your poor choices but you purposefully not only sent it out to find a replacement for you to cover for Amane’s sloppiness but set it up to die and restore Amane’s lifespan.”

“Why would I know it?”

“Because you’re sister heard you say its name the night Amane first showed up. Rem.”

Light scoffed, a half-laugh. “Please. She was spying through a closed door and it was years ago. What she heard or remembers could have been heavily influenced by many factors –“

“She made a diary entry that night about everything she overheard so she wouldn’t forget because it was so strange.”

Soichiro couldn’t help the half-strangled little laugh that came out of him at the look Light had. It was annoyance and shock, the one he often wore when Sayu pulled something over on him that he hadn’t quite seen coming before muttering words they couldn’t hear.

“What was that?”

“You’re basing this investigation on my sister’s five-year-old diary entry?”

“No, but it looks fairly damning, doesn’t it?” Restor shifted, and Soichiro wouldn’t doubt he was smiling as he continued. “It was a good plan. Find a fall guy, solve the case, and get your powers back after making up rules to clear yourself. You needed the attention to be away from you to be able to provide proof of innocence. Amane has told us you sent her out to dig something up that she never remembers finding, apple in hand, and then she comes and sees you at the building you won’t leave because you know you can’t – that if you leave, aren’t being seen, it will leave room for doubt.”

“I think you like the sound of your own voice.”

“They told me L died in your arms. I can’t imagine the cruelty you have to possess to do that to someone, the one person who always saw you as you are.”

Light stiffened before he shook his head. “Only because you decided to share his views.”

“You are nothing but a murderer, Light Yagami,” Restor said, his voice low, the words biting from even here and Soichiro felt his wife shudder at his side.

He wished she wasn’t watching as he found her hand, surprised that she didn’t turn her face away from the screen, her gaze resolute.

“In your eyes,” Light returned. “I’m sorry my family seems to be misled the same way –“

“Because you involved them. You are no better than the people you kill. In fact, you are worse because you stand away, aren’t forced to watch the carnage you deliver,” Restor spat out, his body rigid. “You have never shot someone, seen their brains exit their skull, blood saturating clothing from knife wounds, torn off limbs from bombs, the panicked look while they’re being strangled or the pleas of stop while being beaten. You’ve made sure you’ve kept it sanitary, palatable, which translates in your mind as dignified if not sanctioned. But you do worse to them, make them behave as you see fit before they die, parrot words, write notes, perform actions.

“All of your lies, the greatest one is to yourself. You pretend to be a god, a savior, when in reality you are a cowardly murderer whose entire system will collapse once the constant threat of death is lifted from the world. Nothing you have done will stay, your impact on the world will be a net negative, more harm than any good. And you can’t even have the decency to face your victims, at least the vast majority, as you condemn and kill them.”

Restor rose, Light staring at him, watching every movement and Soichiro could see his jaw clenching, the little twitches in his hands.

“Your father will be writing in the book, Light.”

“And you expect me to confess to save him from his own stupidity. To keep him from dying –“

“To at least try to spare yourself when he doesn’t die in thirteen days if you can’t be bothered with not endangering him. I can’t say I see you ever being bothered by anyone’s life other than your own.”

Something about Light, the way he seemed to shiver made that hole in Soichiro open further.

He has barely given a sign but it feels like he’s done something, made sure that I die. That he can barely conceive of it but it’s there. Unprovable but there.

“I suppose we will find out in thirteen days.” Light’s voice was cold and challenging.

“I suggest you use your remaining time to come to terms with what you are.” Restor’s voice slid over them like ice, leaving emptiness behind as Light refused to acknowledge any of it. “You will never be anything more than a murderer with delusions of grandeur that threw away everything for nothing.”

Restor left. Everything about his son was controlled, most likely being well aware that he was being watched and analyzed. Light remained still on his cot, leaning forward, fingers wiping at his mouth absently as his eyes stared down at the floor in front of him, concealing a good portion of his face.

Sachiko stood and he followed, his men quiet, eyes sympathetic to her and he sensed she was close to snapping at them, demanding they not pity her. Wanting to avoid that he murmured to her that he was exhausted, and knew it would please her that he was willing to rest even if he ended up staring at the wall or the ceiling for a few hours because he couldn’t do anything else.

“I’m sorry.”

It was Matsuda, blurting out things when they were almost to the door, Aizawa right there as he was on his way back from Near. Looking over, Soichiro saw Ide glare at the man, Mogi shouldering him and Matsuda shuffled.

“I know,” Sachiko said, her voice lilting despite how thin it was. “It’s not your fault. I want to ask why you didn’t see what he was sooner, but watching him, I can see how convincing he can be. I keep wondering how much of his life he’s spent lying to me.”

“Sachiko,” Soichiro whispered to her but she shook her head before looking up at Aizawa.

“I remember what we spoke about. But I don’t think any mother has had to face their son being what he is. And I ask myself where I went wrong –“

“Nowhere,” Aizawa interrupted, voice firm. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“What else am I to do?” she cried out, finally showing her strain. “Tell me, what else am I supposed to think outside of perhaps the book did something.”

Soichiro paled, wishing it was so, Aizawa drawing in a large breath.

“Your husband has been an owner and has made a deal with a living Shinigami. I have handled the book extensively. Neither of us has had changes in our beliefs.” Reaching out, Aizawa took one of her hands that had been pulling at the hem of her shirt in a useless, helpless action. “I wish it was the case. All of us do. But I do know, having personally met your son before all of this and our research, that nothing shows he was deeply disturbed. You aren’t to blame for what he’s done to himself.”

“Did – did he test it when he found it? Think he couldn’t come home?” Her voice was heartbreaking, Aizawa beginning to lose his stoniness as she continued, “I would always take him home. If he truly wanted to come, I wouldn’t turn him away, even now.”

“Mama.”

It was Sayu, with Ruvie, having come to find them and she went to her mother, putting her arms around Sachiko, whispering something to her that made his wife shake her head.

“No, Sayu,” she murmured, “don’t hate him.”

“I’m trying not to,” Sayu whispered back before leading her mother out, Soichiro feeling useless as he watched them go, despising that they had been told but seeing no good end regardless of what they knew.

Would they believe me dying in the line of duty better? Of Light dying the same way shortly after? How much of a mercy is that – leaving them in lies that could always surface, tearing apart what peace they build up?

“No,” he said to Aizawa’s unasked question. “I’m not putting either one in front of him again.”

“Even if it upsets him enough to tell us something?”

“If it doesn’t, that just destroys them further. My son has destroyed enough.”

He glanced back at the screen, Light still brooding, refusing to show that he felt any genuine emotion, before following his wife and daughter out.

Chapter Text

His palms were sweaty as he followed the large TV the guards were wheeling in before him, hating this idea but they were running out of time and he wanted to know, one way or another how this would end.

“I’m not sure either of us will like the answer, but eleven days in, I’m willing,” Near had said an hour ago.

And here he was, that familiar hall opening up before him as the TV was stopped before the cell, the rustle of chains as Light shifted. Soichiro forced himself forward, taking the remote and thanking the men who left him there alone, barring Ryuk who drifted back into a corner.

“Looking for bonding time?” Light asked, amused, sitting on his small cot, his clothes just as pristine as ever.

It was a terrible thought that he was undressed and cleaned under armed guard frequently because his chains would be loosened and he would be seen as a risk. An idea that was hard to rectify with the image of his little boy chasing his sister around in the park down the street from their first house.

“Not that I’m complaining. It isn’t exactly comfortable sitting here in near silence wondering when they’ll just come in and shoot me.”

“Try not to engage him,” Near had instructed as they prepared earlier “Just ignore what he says and say what you are there to say. Don’t let him lead you down a different path, make him listen to you.”

It was advice he was already intimate with and should already know but it didn’t hurt hearing it repeated because of how beyond the pale this situation was. Pointing the remote, not giving an answer, he turned it on and flipped to a channel that he knew had continuous coverage right now, unmuting it.

“Reports are still pouring in over multiple claims of the death of a condemned prisoner allegedly mercy killed by Kira in recently leaked footage. Some are pointing out that this is bringing a spotlight to certain areas of the world, others claiming that Kira should have struck down his jailors and not the man sentenced for what most would not consider a crime. There has been a loud response of people asking for this more if these people cannot be saved –“

Looking up, letting the sound become background noise, he saw the mirth falling away from Light, actual worry in those eyes before Light suddenly laughed.

“What’s funny?” Soichiro asked, not certain he wanted an answer.

“You want me to think you used the book.” Light shook his head, rising as he paced, his chains rattling more. “That you carried out your threat and actually killed someone.”

“You don’t believe it?” In a way, he shouldn’t be surprised. “You think I wouldn’t go this far.”

“L messed with broadcasts,” Light challenged, watching him. “Remember? He played tricks to both mislead Kira and the public. You’re with someone that thinks he’s the real deal. Of course, he would take the same play. It’s not a bad one, just that it’s already been done.”

In silence, Soichiro flipped to another channel, then another, then another, watching uncertainty grow in Light. If, in his madness, Light proclaimed they had staged this story, there wasn’t a way for him to overcome that, even if they showed the raw footage. Maybe, if Near had footage of them writing and then waiting for the man –

“I watched him die, Light. Just the way it was written, he laid down and died on command.”

Light was staring at him now. “What did you do?”

“What I said I was going to do. Test the rule you didn’t want to be tested.” Soichiro took a breath, dragged it in and out as he looked over at Ryuk. “And I would guess the one about burning it is false, too, that we can do that without fear of death.”

“Why?” Light had walked forward till he was stopped by the length of the chain, tugging at it uselessly. “Why did you do this?”

Licking his lips, Soichiro made himself look at his son, knowing that his worst fears were coming true. He was amazed he still had them after he finally found a way to see Light as Kira.

“What will be your downfall is that I wasn’t the one to write in the book.” Soichiro paused, watching Light open and close his mouth, unable to push out a sound. “I knew you would be banking on that, Near did, too. It’s a failsafe, Light, so if I die exactly thirteen days after the man we killed, we’ll know not only is the rule false but that you’re guilty. If no one dies, we know it’s false. There isn’t a way out, anymore.”

“All of this is a setup. You have nothing so you want to convince me that you have everything in order to extort a confession. It’s police procedure.”

Not that his son was wrong but Soichiro had to ignore it as he pressed on, muting the TV all the way.

“I’ve been trying to figure out if you actually planned on me dying.”

“How- how could you say that?”

“Light,” he said, not being able to hide his voice breaking. “I believe you set it up so I would die to prove it, that you’ve known this was a real possibility for a while. That you’ve known I’ve had growing suspicions before we ever got to this point. I’m not sure you ever planned on me making it out alive, let alone past the thirteen days when you thought I’d kill Mello. It’s been months, you’ve been stuck dodging me for months, hiding pictures and yourself so that you don’t give away more than you already have. How much stress have you been under, watching everything you said, judging everything you did before you did it so that it wouldn’t get worse?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“There is so little left I can do for you but I meant what I told you, I still love you.” He made himself stop, swallowing back his grief as Light’s face was close to shattering. “I’m trying to forgive you. Thousands upon thousands are dead now. I’m sure you had Misa killing for you. She doesn’t remember, you made sure of it, but she remembers you telling her to go to the woods when L released her. She thinks she never did, which means she got the other notebook. That you planned L’s death –“

“You don’t know what you’re saying!” Light was enraged, pulling at his chains, agitated and restless, his composure gone. “You have no idea of anything. You just decided I was guilty because you didn’t want to do this anymore, face what’s happened.”

“Turning you in was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Your mother and sister – I don’t know what will happen to them. Misa – she doesn’t know anything anymore but she’s still guilty. Whoever you picked to kill in your name is still killing and my name is going to be in that book soon. I’m sure you gave instructions, a just in case because you plan, Light. You always did, you always looked ahead and I can’t figure out why you decided this was the right path.”

Light turned away from him, his breathing heavy, not answering and Soichiro turned off the TV.

“Your world, the one you convinced yourself was real, isn’t justice, Light. Injustice is always going to exist. The man we killed still existed, thousands more exactly like him keep existing. You can’t murder your way past the evil in the human heart. In the end, you just became what you claim you hated, and I can’t tell if you hate me enough to let me die this way.”

Not being able to stand being here anymore he walked down and banged on the door, the guard letting him through a minute later, Ryuk forever his shadow.

Thirty-six hours. That was all that was left and that was the maximum if the person Light had chosen kept his time of death in sync with the prisoner down to the time zone. In reality, it may be much less.

Sleep had ceased to come, an unwilling acceptance that soon it wouldn’t matter.

“I don’t want to make it worse,” Sachiko had told him earlier. “I want to see him, ask him to undo this if he is guilty but I fear he’d let it continue out of spite.”

Through the doors in front of him was the outer area of the cell blocks, the stations that housed the guards and all their monitoring equipment. A part of him wanted to see if Light was at all distressed, if he was upset or just calmly sitting, waiting for him to die or for Mr. K to die, or for nothing at all.

Each time he tried to move forward he found himself unable to, afraid of what he would find.

“Yagami-san.”

Turning, his bleary eyes struggling to focus, he saw Aizawa standing a couple of feet away.

“Ryuk again?”

Aizawa laughed. Soichiro believed it would have been cheerful if everything wasn’t screaming down on top of them.

“No, for once. We were leaving and may be gone a while. We wanted…” Aizawa seemed at a loss for words.

Because I may not be alive by the time you return.

“Your wife told us you were down here,” Aizawa continued after a moment, a tense pressure seeming to build in him. “Were you going to see him?”

“No. I just – I was thinking about looking at the monitors.”

I want to know if he is still human, has any emotion at all.

Soichiro tried not to focus on the idea of L in Light’s arms, of all the deaths Light had caused, of which ones he had watched. Light had killed L twice, in theory, the first time being the condemned prisoner and he banished the idea of Light sitting at home, watching TV, and simply murdering a man because he called Kira evil.

Nodding, Aizawa turned a little taking a few steps away towards a small cluster of chairs with a table set in the corner. Perhaps a waiting area designed for interrogators or visitors. Soichiro was uncertain, not that it mattered now. It felt like he had squandered the last few weeks of his life with this, was still wasting his last few precious hours with his indecision, his inability to witness what had become of his son.

“I want it to be a lie, all our theories. I want us to be wrong.” Aizawa had a strange calmness to him that warned of the coming storm, his face still mostly turned away. His clothing was more wrinkled than normal, his tie had been pulled down a little and his face worn as though he had aged in the past day. “I don’t want Near’s man to die, but I want everything Light claimed, to be true. I want this to be a mind game instigated by Mello and padded by Ryuk and in a few hours we’ll be able to move on even though the cost was too high.”

“I know.”

Aizawa shifted on his feet, his head tilted back. It outlined his throat, the loud swallow, as though all of this could be forced back for a while longer.

“We trusted him. Not just with this case, not just with our lives, but with the lives of other officers, of their and our families.” Aizawa’s voice was a hiss, unguarded and unchecked as his fingers curled at his sides. “All of this, if it’s real, means that he used us from the start. That he wheedled his way in, used everything we had, your position, what we gave him, to do whatever he wanted. And now – now –“

The sound was loud, Soichiro in his fatigue had barely registered that Aizawa had grabbed one of the chairs and thrown it against the wall hard enough that there were noises of splintering wood and he saw a dent in the plastering, flakes cascading.

Shaking, he didn’t know what to say as Aizawa put a palm against the damaged wall as if to steady himself as the door into the cell block opened.

“Are you alright?” a man asked, eyeing them and the wreckage of the chair.

“I apologize,” Aizawa mumbled. “I’ll pay for the damages,”

“No need, as long as you don’t have a whole wake of it.” The man shifted his attention to Soichiro who tried to find focus, to at least look put together enough to exist in this world. “Are you here to see him?”

Words wouldn’t come at first, his mind uncertain about his final decision, his mouth moving a few times before he settled on, “No.”

A pause and Soichiro wished he could see more than just the eyes under the covering, unsure whether to feel anger over being pitied or disgusted by compassion that shouldn’t be spent on him.

“He’s restless, agitated, as though he can’t be still,” the guard told him. “I’ll have someone by to clean this up.”

The door was closing, time felt as though seconds were missing, a blink and things were different, like a film skipping. Aizawa looked back at him but Soichiro knew to not have hope over the news that had been given.

“I know him. More than likely he is creating his excuses, his rationale, for why this is the way it is, why it happened. Why it is my fault.”

“Do you really think it would be that easy for him?” Aizawa frowned, turning more towards him. “Because I feel like if he could just kill you, he would have had you die of your injuries as soon as he thought you would be a problem.”

Soichiro stared at the floor, the white tiles flecked with something, a glare against his dark shoes, the lights forever shining in this building and he longed to go out, not die in this place.

Before this moment, he had felt he should lie down in a few hours, save them from a collapse or a slumped body or any number of distress scenarios his brain had come up with over and over again. It had been discussed – writing his own name down – but it was feared that anything could happen. If something changed, if they found the man or were wrong, he would be merely condemning himself to die in twenty-three days. Albeit painlessly, but it was still high risk no matter the hopelessness that curled inside, pushed out all the life in him till he felt as if he was already a hollow husk awaiting his internment in the earth.

In the end, it doesn’t matter if it’s easy for him or not if the outcome is the same.

“I was considering asking them if it would be alright if I went outside,” he said, ignoring Aizawa’s last statement because there was no room left in him for faith. “It’s been so long.”

“Do you want me to have them send a message to Near?”

He nodded and Aizawa slipped through the door. Soichiro wouldn’t doubt the man was relieved to have a focus that wasn’t him for even a minute as he waited. Even the pain that had grown and spread over the past days was a distant thud as if it couldn’t be bothered.

It felt like it had been under a minute when Aizawa came back but he doubted it was that short, the officer coming closer.

“They said they’ll come to get all of you at dawn,” was the soft answer and Soichiro wanted to protest as that felt so far away. “It’s twenty to one in the morning, Yagami-san.”

“Ah,” he managed. Time had ceased being important to him a while ago, outside of counting down the remaining hours of his life. “We should go back then.”

They were silent and Soichiro didn’t think there were words to say to this, nor did he want to ask Aizawa if he had seen Light, ask what his condition was. As far as he knew, Light hadn’t said a word since he had seen him and told him the truth about the rule testing. He had been told that Light had refused his meal but it meant so little. His son had starved himself before while murdering, it fit that he would do so again.

He wondered what lie Light would tell himself in the wake of all his, what convoluted tale his mind would make up in order to cope in a few hours. Perhaps, that he had been set up, that he was innocent and the real murderer was still out there. He could hear Light’s voice in his mind, pleading about the presence of the current Kira, that he had begged his father not to do this, that he had no way of influencing any of this.

It had been the tale he had come up with during his first confinement according to L who told him of the troubling change later. Somehow, it was a story that had made sense in Light’s head no matter how it would have crippled Kira to operate, at least until Light was executed. Perhaps, his son could never face even the hint of the possibility that he forged himself into a monster.

I wonder what he told the one that now kills in his name. Maybe that I betrayed Kira, doubted, threatened everything, and must be made an example of -

No, I would think it more likely he would paint me as an attention seeker, that I would go after Kira’s power to prove a point and kill that condemned man in Kira’s name. That I must be put down so that others fell in line with Kira’s will. It makes far more sense that way. And he has pictures of me, it would be easy to hand that over with a book in a faceless meeting with a true believer. And it would have to be a true believer given the amount taken each day. I wonder if Light gave over names or had the man prepare, to be ready for his role as Light squirms and tries to find a way to slip away again.

Soft voices and he looked up, seeing their door partially open. Matsuda being emotional was not a surprise to him, but the quiet grief of Mogi and Ide was palatable. They stood as Sayu and Sachiko sat at the table, not enough chairs for so many and he went to sit by his wife.

“Near is going to come to get you to go outside at dawn if you still wish to go,” Aizawa told them and he saw his wife nod, struggling to hold herself from breaking.

“It is good you have your warm coat,” she told him, voice thick and slow. “I’m sure they won’t mind if we bring a blanket.”

“I doubt they would,” Ide said. “They probably have more if you need them.”

Soichiro took his wife’s hand, grateful that she understood that he may not return here, depending on when it happened.

“It’s been an honor –“ Mogi was saying when Sayu suddenly pushed herself back, angry, her dark eyes even darker by the shadows of her restless nights.

“Don’t say that,” she ground out, standing and Soichiro feared she was close to breaking, trying to think of what to do for her. “Don’t come here and act like he is already dead.”

“Sayu –“ Aizawa started but she backed up a few steps, shaking her head.

“No. Everyone is assuming, planning like it is already done. I can’t. We’re just sitting here when he’s out there somewhere, and I can’t – I can’t,”

She took several steps, Ide moving to try to intercept her but she was too fast, whispering no, her face a mess of so many things laid bare in this second as she escaped out in the hallway. Matsuda was the closest to her as Soichiro got back up, Sachiko in front of him when he heard it.

It was a wail, close to a scream, loud and long that felt like it dug into his heart, ripped apart his insides with its sorrow.

Matsuda was holding her as she wept, hands clawing at him as her legs gave out, Ide close and helping them both to the floor. Matsuda whispered something to her and when he looked up, Soichiro had to look away from the despair there. Sachiko stopped herself from going over, staying beside him as Mogi quietly said they should give them a minute.

Soichiro rubbed his forehead, sinking back into the chair he had just vacated, his wife beside him with her hand on his shoulder.

“Did you see him?” she asked and Soichiro stared at the table, feeling numb, as though there was nothing left of him.

“I did, for a minute,” Aizawa offered. “He was restless, as though he didn’t want any part of himself to be still but we shouldn’t take that as any sign of guilt.”

“I want to be wrong. I want all of us to be insane over what you say is the truth.”

“I know,” Aizawa said. “We all do. Anything in our power to give you is yours.”

Sachiko didn’t answer and Soichiro felt her press her face into his hair and he reached up, wrapping his arm around her, not caring who was there to see something so intimate.

There was no one that could give his wife what she truly wanted and he felt a slow drag as he swallowed, trying not to think of that night in the hospital as she cried out for their daughter that never had a chance.

I’m leaving her to face this again, worse than the last by far. We’ll know, his lies will be ended, the other will be found eventually, we know how it works but she may not survive this.

With a good deal of strength, he didn’t know he had, he pushed away the memory of his wife begging for her child and then the lifelessness in her eyes in the weeks that followed years ago.

Sayu was still crying but she had quieted some as she was brought in, her arms around herself, head half down. Soichiro almost suggested they take her outside but feared she would bolt, try to find this Kira herself if they did.

“Why don’t you get some rest? It’s a few hours yet till dawn,” Aizawa said gently. “We’ll be back.”

It was a better way to put this as his officers left, closing the door behind them as Sayu stood beside him, agitated as she shifted her weight on the balls of her feet.

“Papa, I’m sorry, I –“

“Don’t be sorry,” he told her as Sachiko moved away from him to go make up the loveseat, where Sayu had stayed last night. “He’s right. None of us have rested at all.”

She bit her lip but nodded, seeming doubtful but she went, Sachiko helping her as Soichiro followed. Sayu laid down on her side, blanket laid across her as he managed to sit down on the coffee table that sat in front of the little couch. Reaching out he brushed the hair out of her face, a few tears still falling, her eyes red-rimmed.

“I never blamed you,” he told her, pushing her hair behind her ear. “Ever, for any of this. I want you to remember that.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too. Rest now. We’ll be up in a few hours.”

She closed her eyes as he pushed himself up, his body aching. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, to ask her to live, to not let this bury her but he didn’t think she would hear him, that it would only upset her. Instead, he joined Sachiko in bed, just under the comforter, his wife facing him on her side in the dim light of the room as he put an arm around her.

In a testament to Sayu’s exhaustion, he heard her light snores, what Light had once jokingly called dainty when she was congested and he kissed Sachiko’s forehead.

“A couple of days ago I wrote her a letter. It’s in with my papers, if it happens, when she’s ready – “ he couldn’t finish and knew he didn’t have to as Sachiko’s hand curled tighter against him.

“It’s not just losing you. It’s what it means.”

“I know.

He held her close, her breath hot against him as he closed his eyes to at least alleviate their strain for a while, trying to clear his mind of a lifetime of memories and failing.

The man who had come to get them had been short on words, only that they were to come at once and Soichiro ached as he struggled to keep up with the fast pace. Sayu walked faster, grabbing the man’s arm, her face fiery.

“Can’t you see he doesn’t go that fast?”

“Sorry.” It was toneless but Soichiro realized it was just a simple habit, the pace slowed down a bit when they restarted.

They were being taken to Near, his wife and daughter on either side of him, noise filling the room and he thought it was Aizawa commanding when they entered. Looking up, he saw what was probably footage from a body cam, men in riot gear, their faces covered.

“We are with Aizawa-san’s viewpoint,” Near said, sitting in a chair, his leg drawn up, the other dangling off, mask in place.

“G is calling,” a man yelled out.

“Put him on,” Near said, listening for the tone that drowned out the officers on screen for a moment, Soichiro’s eyes transfixed by the men getting ready. “Was it successful?”

“Yes. We have it.”

“Are you sure it’s the real one?”

“As sure as we can be. I don’t know of a way to test it outside of the obvious, but it would be one hell of a forgery.”

“Good. Secure it and return.” Near reached over and picked something up. “Aizawa-san, we believe we found it.”

“Copy that. We’re ready.”

“Go on your mark.”

“Did they find the man?” Sayu whispered to him and Soichiro nodded.

“It sounds like it,” he answered her, trying not to feel hopeful.

Given what they now knew, his name may have been written down days ago as a safeguard. Whatever his son had done, it may be too late to reverse as they waited, Aizawa falling silent and going to hand signals as they entered the building, the men under him lining up, battering ram moved forward.

A silent count and they broke the door, a flashbang deployed before them, muffled cries from inside and probably from neighboring apartments from the noise. The men filed in, Aizawa with his weapon drawn, rooms being searched before the yell: “Down on the ground! Get down on the ground, keep your hands where we can see them.”

It was hard to make out through the constant movement that was almost sickening but he saw a man who was thin and tall, something familiar about him, like he knew him in passing, trying to place the name that barely registered with him as he was consumed by a whole other detail.

“There’s no life span,” he whispered, Near nodding without looking over.

“That’s him. Aizawa-san, make sure he is thoroughly secured. We don’t know if he made any deal.”

“Mikami Teru, you are being taken into custody for acts of terrorism and murder,” Aizawa was saying and Soichiro blinked.

“The prosecutor,” he said, voice slow as the name finally slid into place in his mind, Near looking over at him. “That can’t be.”

“You know him?”

“I’ve met him a few times. He’s – he’s intense, had a very black-and-white view. I never found him pleasant but he won his cases. It’s been a couple of years.”

In a strange, sick way, Soichiro could understand how he ended up being a Kira supporter as he was restrained and hauled to his feet with his eyes covered, the rest of the men beginning the search for any remnants of evidence.

“Is this what you do?” Sayu asked and Soichiro looked at her, unable to determine if she was horrified or awed.

“It was mostly paperwork,” he told her gently.

“Yes, it was the paperwork that gave you the knife wounds,” Sachiko muttered under her breath and he suppressed a smile because that shouldn’t be funny.

“We’ll be at this a while,” Aizawa said. “He has a lot of files and his own organization system.”

“It would be better to bring all papers back here,” Near replied. “Anything that can be moved should be. We’ve already caused enough commotion. The NPA will struggle to explain this as it is.”

“Understood,” Aizawa said and began barking out the orders.

“Is it over?” Sayu asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Near answered, leaning back, returning to playing with his hair. It was an almost hypnotizing movement.

They waited, listening to the bustle as Mikami’s apartment was packed up, boxes and boxes being filled with papers and books, drawers pulled all the way out and dumped, searched for anything hidden.

“Mostly just casework, so far, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something. He’s really compulsive about certain things, so there may not be a trail directly here,” Aizawa said.

The door opened and a couple of men joined them, bringing something to Near. Despite himself, Soichiro stood up and no one stopped him as the package was laid out on the large main counter. It was another book and as it was opened, he saw columns of names and times, each page with its own set date. So many of them in such a short amount of time.

“As far as we can tell, he filled up a page per day,” the man, probably G, said as Near flipped through the pages. “We didn’t see your name, Mr. Yagami.”

It isn’t a guarantee but – he cut off his thoughts as Near went to the end and they found the last entries for yesterday's date. Nothing was set beyond it yet.

“How – how did you find him?” he asked.

“Your son gave up his name.”

A soft sound, it was Sachiko, Sayu pulling her into her arms where they still sat. Light had planned to have him killed and somehow couldn’t. Perhaps, he had told this man to wait for a signal and write if it did not come, but as far as he knew he was spared and so was the man who wrote down the name.

He knew it couldn't save his son, as he stared down at the book of the dead.

Chapter Text

Sachiko was leaning against the table in their room, Sayu asleep on their bed when her sorrow finally pushed her into a restless sleep.

Dawn had broken on the fifteenth day after the prisoner’s death and Sachiko raised her head to look at him, red-rimmed eyes, face pale.

What little they had learned before Mikami’s death had been harrowing. That man had seen Light as a god, not as the murderer he was, but as someone to cleanse the earth of “filth” as it had been put to the interrogator.

“He will be executed.”

“Yes.”

There were no other words. He could not think of a way to try to barter for anything else, even if he sold his eyes for use to the highest bidder, there was no way to get Light any other sentence.

Would I save him? Even if his conditions were not cruel, would I save him?

“He set you up to die.”

“Yes.”

Her face was severe, jaw clenched, fingernails scratching along the smooth varnish of the table. In the dim light, she looked ghastly, her cheeks drawn tight, eyes narrowed.

He wondered what she was thinking of and he worried she blamed herself.

“He did this to himself.”

“Yes.”

He wanted to tell her to sit before she collapsed but couldn’t find words that went past simple answers as she stood, shaking, her mind trying and failing to find any explanation beyond Light’s involvement.

In the quiet of the room, he didn’t know if they’d survive.

“He’s still our child.”

“Yes.”

Something about her made him move closer, watching her. She didn’t move her head towards him, staring steadily onwards towards a fixed point beyond the table her nails scratched at. He feared she would tear them off as she curled and outstretched her fingers, over and over in a movement she probably wasn’t aware of.

With caution. he got close to her, dreading to ask what she was thinking of, if it was what would happen to their son or about all the years proceeding this one.

Of their child when he was clumsy on his feet running forward to hug her.

“Sachiko.”

“He doesn’t deserve anything,” she whispered, voice hoarse as she turned to him, hands clutching his shirt, white-knuckled, her fatigue visible in every part of her and he worried she might simply give up in the wake of this.

“He doesn’t.”

“If – if he gets taken away, will there be demands he use the book?”

“We don’t plan on revealing it.” Because no one on earth should have this power. “He will be given over as merely having had the ability at some point in time.”

“Then they’ll demand he uses it. They could – Soichiro, what will they do to him? Will he just be hanged?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know what will happen.”

“But they could hurt him. They could keep him alive and…” she didn’t finish the thought but it didn’t need to be finished.

“Near has some influence. He doesn’t want that.”

“But it’s not enough to guarantee our child will just die.”

Nothing about any of those here told him they would relish the idea of Light being endlessly tortured. It was far different to wish that over death, destruction of the mind, causing Soichiro to tremble thinking of listening for the snap of Light's neck. That fate – to see it happen –

Sayu rolled over in her sleep but she was unaware as Sachiko wrapped her arms around herself. An idea began to surface in his mind.

“Sachiko.”

“It’s the last thing to give him. The world gets what it wants and we don’t live imagining him screaming, the years he would spend tortured and afraid.” She looked at him, her face so pale it was like death. “You said there was no pain.”

He nodded, helpless, barely able to keep looking at her because this had occurred to him, too.

“I don’t know if they’ll allow it. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“I’d be with you.” She looked over at Sayu and her face was a mask of pain. “She won’t understand. I don’t know if there’s a way to make her understand. Soichiro, what they’ll do to him.”

As soon as his son was handed over they lost control, whatever promises made could be disregarded.

“We have a few days,” he told her. “No decisions are being made just yet. There is still time –“

“For what?” Her voice was fragile and she let out a laugh he was sure would haunt him till the hour of his death. “There is nothing to be done except deciding which power gets the honor of his execution. What he has done, and I know I don’t know even a fraction of it, there is no forgiveness for.”

“No,” Soichiro allowed. “But what we are suggesting, I don’t know if we’ll be able to continue on.”

“I don’t know if I can now.” She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and he realized she had lost more weight than he’d thought. She was so slender, as though her bones had risen to the surface over the past week, sharp and prominent, her throat clicking above the delicate points of her collarbone covered in too-thin skin. “Will he even admit what he is now?”

Soichiro shook his head, glancing at Sayu who was still asleep, her fingers flexing against the blanket, breathing deeply.

What do I do for her? She loves Light, she has always adored him. Even if this is kept quiet, if Kira’s death goes unnoticed, will she want to even wake up again?

“He’s so lost,” Sachiko said, drawing close to him. “I can’t stand the idea of his death in fear and agony.”

“I know but to do this –“

“He would die by the thing he used.” She let out a quiet rasp, a half-choked down sob that tried to surface. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand where I went wrong –“

“Nowhere,” he told her, knowing she would have to hear this every day of her life. “If anything, I’m more to blame.”

The long hours, bringing home his work even if it wasn’t the details it was the stress – his distance, his lack of time with his children, his injuries. He could be laying bruised and bleeding somewhere with his family unaware and it had happened before but it was always the mantra he had been taught, had it beaten into him that drove his actions, made him believe as much as Light did in his own, perverted ways.

Duty before family.

She nodded as she walked to the door.

“I need a few minutes.”

Helpless, he let her go, staring up at the ceiling because he couldn’t see his daughter right now, still clinging onto some kind of hope, however slim, that her brother would remain alive.

“I’m trying not to hate you, blame you,” Sachiko had told him earlier, still openly weeping before she had gone eerily quiet. “I know it’s not your fault, what he’s done, but if you hadn’t worked so much maybe, maybe he wouldn’t be this.”

It was bitter, that truth and he wondered if his own ideals became twisted in Light’s mind as he sat down heavily, face in his hands till he felt Sayu beside him, face pressed into his hair whispering she wouldn’t leave.

They had searched him thoroughly before they let him in and when he reached the chairs sitting there still, he gave up his cane before the door was opened.

“Soichiro, what do we do?” Sachiko had begged him in the first hours after Mikami’s arrest. “He’s guilty. What the hell do we do?”

There had been guards posted in Light’s cell with him because of fears of suicide.

Confused, Light stood and Soichiro felt off balance when he had nothing to hold onto, limping his way closer, aware of the guards becoming his living shadows. Adding to this, he did not see a change in his son’s life span, and Light’s face was panicked, Soichiro knowing Light had followed where his gaze went.

More than likely his final fate hasn’t been decided yet.

“Don’t tell me,” he begged and Soichiro nodded. “Please, don’t say what it is.”

“I won’t.”

This was the closest he had been to Light since Near’s men had dragged him away three weeks ago and he made himself not reach out and touch his son. Light was clean, and while thinner, had been cared for.

You saved my life. If you hadn't made sure it was set up so meticulously, Mikami would have had my name in that book the moment the news broadcasted the story, date, and time set to the second. He would have done anything to obey the will of his god. You knew this, knew he was a fanatic that was far more detailed than Misa ever could be, someone you could trust not to be careless.

It was sixy-sixty hours past the thirteen days since the death of the prisoner. Sixty-sixty long hours of waiting, of wondering if there was an errant scrap with his name on it, wondering what thoughts Light had in his mind as he handed over the means to command his death.

“I know intellectually the rule is false,” Mr. K had told him five hours ago. “Yet, I still wait. I may spend the rest of my life waiting.”

There were so many questions tearing at his mind for his half-starved child with wild eyes and hair unkempt. Only now did Soichiro realize Light was shaved and he wondered which one of the guards did that, as though it was of any importance.

His child was going to die. His child had killed thousands and the world only cared because they cared about Kira coming for them. The souls of the lost were not what was valuable and he felt an iciness in him over how human life was weighed.

His son had played god and he feared at this moment that Light had done that to protect whatever was left of his sanity.

“Mikami is dead,” Soichiro said instead of the hundred other things he wanted.

“How?”

“He asked for a pen –“ Soichiro grimaced despite himself. He hadn’t personally witnessed it, but it was grisly enough to imagine. “He claimed he wanted to write down his confession. He severed the artery in his neck instead. Bled out in under a minute.”

Light winced but there was so little comfort he could give.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Soichiro whispered. “I don’t know how this will be handled. It’s not something I have control over.”

“They won’t leave now. I don’t know why you had to push. I can’t help you die, I’m not going to do that –“

“Light,” he tried, his son an uneven mixture of fury and loss staring at him, the blame evident that it was his supposed death wish that landed them here.

“All these years, you had all these years and you decide now that your life isn’t worth anything. That you’d just throw it away, no matter what I did for you.”

“What you did for me?” Soichiro felt even more unsteady on his feet than he normally did, sensing the guards with him were readying themselves.

“You were never there,” Light whispered, his hands pulling blindly at the cuffs that bound him. “All these years and what did any of it get you? Look at you –“

“I think you had more to do with this than my career.” He couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice Light not dropping his eyes but his insides felt cold and hollow, as though Light was reaching in and peeling away what little he had left.

He is angry, afraid, at breaking because of what he is facing, what he’s done. He won’t even say it to me, tell me there was no other way for him to have known that name. Years of lies, years of all those lies and what he’s been doing. When L took him, he hadn’t been at this for a year even…

Soichiro forced those thoughts back down, wondering if they had seen it sooner, back then, if there was anything left of his son to save.

"They finally found my picture where he had hidden it." Light looked unfazed, as though it was a language he didn't understand as Soichiro forced himself on. "The instructions on how to kill me."

That terrible narrative that he had created in his own head while standing outside the cell block doors had come true. His name, the tight hand explaining that he was a Kira follower who had disobeyed, had pursued his own glory and must be put down with the exact instructions following, along with the explicit threat to Mikami of just what would happen to him if he failed.

There was no evidence, nothing tied him to the photo, the handwriting such that they couldn't match it. Light was careful, had always been careful, his work photo was used and had been freely available for years before this madness had started. 

Light's eyes were close to blank as if he hadn't heard and Soichiro wasn't sure if it was just too terrible for Light to face with his potential victim in front of him, or if Light simply could not accept he had done anything so callous in the long list of cruel things already staining his hands.

And if he hadn't included Near, if instead he had kept this within the Task Force, or worse, had simply tested the rule himself, it was quite possible he would be dead and Light would be exonerated yet again. 

He couldn't imagine what Light would have been after that.

“Surely, you thought that this plan could fail –“ Soichiro stopped himself, seeing Light’s agitation grow.

Losing had never come easily to Light, it was something he rarely contemplated and up until now, was something he rarely had to face.

“I don’t get the generosity of having my face covered in front of you. You can see it, can’t you? You can see how many days I have left.”

He couldn’t tell him that they were the same, or that they may change at any time.

“No one cares that you can mark your calendar to when you’ll be down your natural son –“

“Light.”

“Why did you come here?”

Light’s voice was thin, a sallow to his face that made him paler than he had any right to be, large eyes searching him, waiting for the reprimand, to be yelled at, abandoned. A sense that Light was almost taunting him, wanting him to leave him here alone to his fate so that his son could curse them all as he was hanged and not everything that had been thrown away.

All those words he had stored up over these weeks and months and years were trapped as a lump that made his throat hurt.

Was the world so bad to you, so truly bad, that you felt this was what you had to do?

“I still love you,” was what he wanted to say, mouth frozen, his son seeming to be dying already in front of him.

“Why do you bother, now?”

The longing in Light, the way he leaned forward as if begging and Soichiro would bet Light had no idea he was doing that, his bindings more severe than they had been in case ideas of ending his life began to be his only thought.

You are my child. I don’t know what to do for you, but you are still my child.

“Please,” Light murmured and Soichiro didn’t know what was wanted, to stay, to leave, to yell, to do something and it was almost as though his body wouldn’t respond in face of what his son had turned himself into.

A part of him whispered up to that he could walk away. That Light would scream and gain some satisfaction, curse him, tell him that it was a mistake to save his life that was only in danger because of the atrocities done at Light’s hands. Light could live in anger then, bathe himself in it because to face all of this, what he had done to the people that loved him, Soichiro felt it would strip whatever remnants of Light's humanity that managed to remain, shredded and bloodied, but still there after all these years of death.

It would be easy to give into anger. 

The guards did not stop him as he took an unsteady step forward, a breath held to see if Light would lunge at him, grab him, try to hurt him. But Light just watched, mouth slightly open, eyes large and lost. Light had an almost feral look, and finally, Soichiro saw that it was driven by fear that  Light was barely keeping at bay.

He knew Light was going to die.

He took his son in his arms, Light stiff against him but not resisting as he stroked his hair, silent, holding him as the guards watched on.

Chapter Text

Ruvie had taken him to a room that had a window that looked out into the heavy branches of a tree. It obscured the view of where they were but the lower pane was open, allowing fresh air in and he found it wonderful. At this point, he felt he could smell exhaust fumes and be joyous. It would be a sign of the world outside and a part of him felt that he had already been buried these past weeks as the worst had come to pass.

No, not the worse. I’m still alive. The worse is yet to come, still.

There were chairs with cushions and he took one, a tea tray set on the table that sat between them. It was mostly quiet, just after dawn and Ruvie poured. Soichiro didn’t think he could take anything. He knew he would need to eat, Sachiko was getting after him for that.

Sachiko who just broke down and cried for minutes at a time before she got herself to stop and move forward another hour until it happened again.

The décor around them was soft blues and earth tones; it was clean, the air moving calmly around them.

“I think you know what I’ve brought you here to discuss,” Ruvie started and Soichiro forced himself to keep meeting his eyes. “Near has asked for your views on what you would like to happen.”

What I would like is for this to never have happened. That my child would have graduated To-Oh and become a police officer and had a family, a career, and a life. He will never have a life now, no matter what happens to him.

“I don’t know what my personal feelings have to do with the end of this,” he said instead, shifting. “I hardly have a say.”

“That’s not our concern. We wish to know your thoughts, how you want this handled.”

“I don’t know how to handle this.”

“A poor choice of words on my part as I don’t think there is a way to or at least one way.” Ruvie leaned back in his chair, cup caught in his fingers, looking a decade older than he had a week ago. “What I do know is that your children are very loved. That even in his state despite his plans, his instinctual will to survive, and most likely partial insanity he not only balked at killing you, but he also traded his life for yours.”

“That doesn’t even begin to make a dent in what he has done, if he even feels remorse.”

And I will never know why he gave me my life, whatever is left of it. He may have thought that we would both go down, together.

“I don’t mean it in that way. Rather, for your own peace that he still is, at least a small part, the child you raised.”

Soichiro swallowed, unable to look and his eyes drifted to the leaves rustling outside, the signs of spring coming all around them when his life was filled with death.

“If it happens, will we be able to get his body?”

It was a terrible question that shouldn’t need asking.

“Under normal circumstances, yes.”

Soichiro grimaced, lips against his teeth. Normal. This was beyond what that word could ever hope to encompass. Unable to sleep, his mind bore down on him with all the fates that Light could possibly have.

“That they – I can’t let him be experimented on. Alive or dead, I can’t send him off for that and we both know that if we don’t reveal the books that is going to happen.”

“Mr. Yagami?” Ruvie looked concerned as if he already knew where this was going as Soichiro forced himself to raise his head.

“If the only decision left is that he is to die, then rather than be handed over I will write his name.”

“You will never get past that –“

“I won’t get past any of this!” he snapped, shaking, fingers biting into his palms as his hands sat curled in his lap. “My wife, I know from her eyes that she knows he’s dead. My daughter doesn’t know where her brother has gone, why he has done this, why he stopped loving her. And I can’t spend months, hell, years, thinking of him somewhere, secret trials and verdicts being the least of our worries. I can’t let him be dragged off to be a martyr or a scapegoat. We both know that the countries that would be involved don’t actually give one damn that he killed dangerous people. They are either terrified of the power being used against them or are salivating at having it themselves.

“And the notion that his killing mostly for capital offenses is wrong so he gets paraded out and killed is sickening. You and I both know that if possible they will make this public. That if they can’t figure out how to use him to their benefit with his supposed powers, they will make him an example, even if they hid in their holes all these years.”

“Yes,” Ruvie said softly. “We are aware of the hypocrisy and the horrendous damage to your family if interested parties pursue that.”

“In the eyes of the world, Sachiko and Sayu will always be guilty when they are innocent, hurt beyond what the public could ever hope to understand. While leaders jostle each other to take credit, my wife and daughter will be destroyed and they should matter just as much as any of Light’s victims. It isn’t about them, to these people, it –“ he stopped, dragging in a breath, aware he was sweating as his eyes went back to watching the leaves blow in gentle movements. “L always spoke of execution.”

“That would seem the most reasonable outcome.”

“I wondered at times, when he said it, that he would simply hand Kira over, if he would feel the same if he had to do it. If he was forced to watch what happened once his puzzle was solved and his game over if he had pieces he was forced to find a place for.”

“It is easier to be detached. It is something he learned from a young age.” Ruvie’s voice had a tone that made Soichiro finally force his eyes back to the man, and was surprised at what he saw. “He was a brittle and bitter man who used his sharp tongue to keep others away because, in his mind, humans could not be trusted. His heart was bleeding for years but I knew him well enough that if it was him and not Near here, he would be asking you the same question. Even if he cursed the responsibility.”

“You may lose him, Yagami-san. If I am wrong, he may die before this is solved just due to who he is, a threat because his life is far more public than mine. If I am right, you may be forced to watch him be taken from you.”

“That doesn’t necessarily make what you are asking me to do to him any better.”

“We both have to know. Would you rather he hates you now or hates you when you arrest him when the world has a thousand more corpses piled on it? And if I am right, and you die, you won’t have to face seeing him marched to his death, or what it will do to your wife and daughter.”

In so many ways, he had been a coward when he placed a gun to Light’s head, wanting to be right in Light’s innocence and comforted that he would never be made truly aware if they were guilty. That these choices that faced him now would never be before him and he despised L for seeing him that clearly.

“I can’t fully understand what you are going through, but there is never a way to not stop questioning yourself on where you went wrong when they make such devastating choices,” Ruvie said after several minutes had passed and Soichiro knew he had been staring at the floor beside his shoes, unable to deal with any of this in a manner that he would have liked.

His mind turned to Mello, that Ruvie had known him well and he wondered if Mello was alive, if others had fallen in this scheme designed by misguided notions of greatness.

“If I matter, if the option Near feels he has left is to turn over Light, I ask to be allowed to grant him death.” Centering himself, he knew he would have to keep going, that they would go in circles if he didn’t, he continued. “We’ve already spoken and agreed.”

“You’ve talked to your wife and daughter about killing him?” The shock in the man was clear, Soichiro nodding.

“Yes. After what happened, when it was certain that Light was guilty they asked what would happen. And it was something that I couldn’t shelter them from. I broached the idea and my wife would like to be beside me when I do it.”

“And your daughter?”

Sayu, little Sayu who still wanted to believe that there would be any semblance of a trial, that her brother would get a defense, that he would not vanish unless he was made a spectacle.

“She is struggling. I think, if it becomes clear what the options are, what will happen, she may never forgive me but it is a gentler option. Sachiko, she and I – “ his words failed for a moment as he cleared his throat. “We discussed writing a phrase along the lines of ‘Light Yagami honestly confesses his crimes’ before he passes. At the least, it’s vague enough that perhaps Sayu will be able to better come to terms with who he is now.”

That he isn’t the brother that carried her home with skinned knees, the one that combed her hair to calm her when a storm was overhead and she held onto her stuffed bunny frightened by the noise. He’s not the brother that she tricked into doing her homework until he tricked her into doing it herself or the one she bothered because he let her, one of the only ones that ever got close to him.

“You don’t believe he loves any of you.”

“I can’t think of anything else. I’m not even sure why he saved me. It may be out of spite, to force me to suffer because his escape was gone.”

Ruvie paled slightly. “Do you think he would go that far? That he feels nothing?”

“I think he’s been faking so much over the years that even he doesn’t know anymore, outside of caring for himself, for his own well-being. That has always come first, it has for years now.”

He was bitter, he did not hide it as he made himself relax his fingers, shifting his leg so the pain would settle and not be flared up from his tense muscles. Being worse off when he went back to them did nothing but heighten their grief more.

“Do you want him to die?”

“He doesn’t deserve to live.” It was simple and horrifying and the complete truth. Even if Light had truly spared his life out of love, it wasn’t enough to justify his son the right to his own. Everything around them demanded that Light kneel down and turn over his own heart, it was the consequence he had been reaping all these years.

His victims weren’t even allowed to have their own final minutes, their own words and actions in their last moments on this earth that were already prematurely shortened.

Like we are any better, given what we did and hiding behind the guise we were shortening suffering.

Bile was in his mouth and he managed to get it back down, rancid and sour.

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

Staring at the leaves, shifting and moving as the day became brighter he made the words come.

“I would do anything to save him. I just know that we are past that point, and allowing him to die as peacefully as possible here and now is the last thing I have to give him.”

They sat for a few more minutes, Soichiro finally taking a sip of his tea to get rid of the bitter taste that had sunk into his tongue. The tea was sweet, and he thought of L hunched over, dropping an incomprehensible amount of sugar cubes into his cup before even chancing a drink.

“And if I do die in this little experiment? What will you do to him?”

“I promise, Yagami-san, that I will not let him be used. It will end swiftly.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Ruvie said as he stood, tea cup placed gently back on the tray.

“I understand.”

A hand on his shoulder as Soichiro kept his eyes on the leaves, thinking of Sachiko piling them up so their children could jump on them, scattered and messy, her face frustrated even as she laughed.

“If you would like, you can stay here for a while.”

“Thank you.”

He was alone outside of Ryuk, who stood solemn behind him, and he tried not to think, hands shaking as the world went on outside this place, unaware.

He had wandered. It was an aimless walk he was on, the people that passed him glanced over but stayed silent and politely out of his way. The world felt as though it was vanishing, fragment by fragment, until the hour the door was open and there would be no outside anymore, just blackness and silence.

For some minutes he feared the sun was already gone, his life forever in shadows, whispering about Light, what he had done, where he was, wondering if he had died yet.

Ruvie must have told Near by now what our wishes are.

His wife wanted to kill their son. He wanted to kill their son. And it was out of mercy, the idea making his mouth go dry as he tried not to think of his conversation with Ruvie. What must all these people think of him now? Would they pity him, think him deranged, or think he was helping Light escape one last time?

He was at the end of a hall and went into the last room. There was a window here and going to it, while heavily tinted and obscured by another wall from the building beside this one, if he leaned up against it, pressed his ear to the glass, he thought he could make out sounds of traffic.

People coming and going, feeding in and out of the city, living lives that were normal, and complaining of the redundancy of each month and year. People who believed themselves trapped in an endless cycle of work, home, sleep and he longed for it. Would give anything to trade places, sit in one of their cars with his family and complain because he simply didn’t know better.

Light had stopped talking and eating. He had been told that Near himself had informed Light he would not be allowed to simply starve himself to death.

Soichiro wished they would allow it and it weighed him down, trembling, cane shaking with him as the world continued to shrink around him, all his thoughts turned to how his son’s life would end.

“You should go back.”

It was Ryuk. Not too far away but not close enough to touch. The creature had kept up with him through his pointless walking, up and down and around in circles because if he went back to his assigned rooms he would be met with suffering he had no hope of alleviating.

He didn’t even know if he could see his son again before he stopped existing.

“You look exhausted, why don’t –“

“Shut up,” Soichiro ground out. “Shut up, shut up, shut up. What do you care? I’m your entertainment,” and he spat out the word, unafraid of making Ryuk upset. “Isn’t that what we are? Batteries and a show to you? So have the decency to not pretend like you give one damn about me.”

“Alright,” Ryuk answered, voice slow as the thing seemed to weigh its words. “Doesn’t change that I’m right.”

Soichiro slammed the tip of his cane against the ground in impotent frustration. “You’re still talking.”

“Because you’re still standing here refusing to do anything to help yourself.”

“What the hell do you want me to do? What is left to do? Tell me and I’ll do it.”

Ryuk remained silent and it felt like he was torn to pieces, the raw agony of Light’s crimes in front of him with no relief, the scope of everything that had been done, since the very beginning. Light claiming he would catch Kira, the protestations of innocence, the scheming and lying even while Light stood beside his hospital bed, the idea that his son would ever care about not being wanted by his family when he was a monster who had no love.

He was on the ground and he screamed into his hands, over and over, feeling it rip through him, the idea that Light had never loved him, or Sachiko, or even little Sayu who was fading in front of them. The brightness in her earned over these long months was gone, flickering away because it was the last thing Light had stolen.

There was no more denial, even frayed threads to hold onto anymore. When he had gotten here, it had been bad, that crushing weight of being right, that Light had done all of this, had murdered and threatened and perhaps even tortured both the living and the dead. But there had always been that strand, the one that held because he could be wrong and he wanted to be. He had never wanted anything, besides his lost daughter to breathe, as achingly desperately as he did to be wrong.

But that was broken and he had a child who had misled and used him for years. A child who was incapable of love as Soichiro still wept on a dirty floor for him.

Slowly, he became aware that Ryuk was beside him, long spindly legs crossed as the Shinigami waited patiently for his mind to return. Muddled thoughts, and he grasped that he had been helped to his current position by those cold hands as he rocked a little, breath still in disgusting hiccups of emotion that he had never dared spend before now.

Why, why, why had Light done this? Orchestrated this whole plan always doomed to fail, if not by him, by the sheer fragility of Light being human and eventually making a mistake.

Fatigued and wondering if he could get up, he leaned against the wall beneath the window he had been pressed against and wanted the lives outside of. He knew he was a mess but Ryuk simply waited for him to be through.

He contemplated if there was really no one around to hear him as he was aware enough that he hadn’t been quiet, or if they stayed away for other reasons.

“You still love him, don’t you?” Ryuk finally asked as the deep throb of his injured muscles began to settle over him.

“Yes.”

Ryuk let out a soft sound. It wasn’t a laugh, closer to a sigh and Soichiro didn’t turn to look at him, instead focusing his gaze on dust-covered boxes shoved without ceremony into the nearby corner. He wondered what was in them – too valuable to throw away but too insignificant to find a proper place for. Left to idle and grow old and useless, like him.

“He doesn’t deserve it.”

“That’s not how it works.” Soichiro swallowed, trying to clear away the phlegm in his throat and control his breath as it pushed out his words, hoarse and worn. “So help me, I wish I could flip a switch and simply not care, but that will never be the case.”

The Shinigami fell silent and eventually Soichiro looked over, surprised that Ryuk seemed deep in thought.

“He told me once, back when L was alive, that whoever won was the one that was right.”

“Foolish child,” Soichiro whispered, feeling the cold seeping into his flesh as he closed his eyes.

“Do you think you’ll forgive him?”

“I don’t know. What he’s done – I don’t…I don’t know if there’s a way to even begin to do that.”

His mind drifted to Sachiko and her words about wanting to take him home. And the horrifying realization that if Light truly wanted that, truly began to understand even a tiny portion of what he had done and wanted them, she would still bring him home if it was an option.

“Do you think you can stand?”

Soichiro laughed, sharp and hard. “Don’t know that either. You may have to get someone. I don’t work as well as I used to.”

To his amazement, Ryuk shifted, crouched in front of him and Soichiro gave over his hands, letting himself be pried up from the floor in a motion he felt was effortless to the creature. Though he still knew so little of them – he forgot Ryuk could even fly most of the time.

Reaching down, Ryuk retrieved his cane and Soichiro stood still, trying to regain his balance, to convince his head to stop spinning.

“I’m not sure where we are,” he offered, taking stock of their surroundings and seeing nothing nearby that was familiar. A few hesitant steps and he got to the door and nothing about the hallway, the placement of the doors, or the markings, were things he had seen before today. “We might need to ask for directions unless you remember which way I took.”

“Probably,” Ryuk said, almost petulant. “I can’t guarantee it, though. I’m not a map, you know. I just walk through stuff when it gets in the way.”

“We can’t all ignore the laws of physics.” Soichiro felt steadier now, his eyes clearer even though he knew he still looked disheveled. There was little to be done for it right now.

“They need signs.”

“That defeats the purpose of secrecy if someone sneaks in.”

“Well, they don’t have to put “Secrets found right here” on the important stuff. Just a small map of rooms and arrows, with an ‘x’  –“

The idea of Near hearing Ryuk’s idea amused him. It was a far safer conversation than any other they could be having as he let Ryuk lead as they wound their way through the nameless corridors.

Have I walked the whole building in my grief?

It was Sayu who found him when they drew closer and he began to see things he knew, her eyes filled with concern.

“Papa.”

“I’m alright,” he said, voice still hoarse and he was surprised when she brushed his cheek, feeling her wipe away wetness because his eyes refused to remain dry, before she buried her face against his shoulder. “I’m still here, Sayu.”

He held her, Ryuk leaving them be, not being any closer to an answer even if he felt more whole.

He sat beside a man in an alcove outside of where Light was held, watching the screen in front of him. It was where Ryuk had asked him to wait, the guards apprehensive but not able to stop the Shinigami from doing whatever he wanted, in the end.

If he set his mind to it, Soichiro didn’t doubt Ryuk couldn’t tear a good portion of this building apart given how easily he was pulled from the floor, those long nails ripping through anything in their way. That Ryuk could very well break Light’s chains as the creature simply walked through the bars, Light staring at it, eyes widening, face thin with a darkness to it that belied his fatigue.

“Shinigami,” Light said, voice worn and the man beside Soichiro started. “Come to gloat?”

Soichiro realized it was probably the first time Light had spoken since he had seen him in person as Ryuk watched Light shift.

“Do you remember what I told you the day we met?”

Light’s lip curled, something nasty in his expression despite his fear. “You expect me to live that long, or does dad have that little time?” he rasped out through dry lips, chains rattling.

“Just that if the worse happens, I’ll finish it for you.” Ryuk, they couldn’t see his face, but Soichiro wouldn’t doubt he didn’t have those same amused eyes, that little sneer he got when he found humans simply fascinating. “I assume they’ll burn one and wait till your father is dead for the other.”

“And if they end up burning both?”

Ryuk gave one of his lazy shrugs. “I would discourage that. Someday, I won’t be bound to earth anymore. I will take care of the problem another way.”

It was cold but to be expected. Belatedly, he realized that the creature could see Light’s long life that still remained, which he kept trying to not focus on. Unchanging numbers and he wasn’t sure if it would have been better or worse to see it as merely days.

“Why not tell them that? It’s why you’re here – this isn’t for me.”

“Light-o,” Ryuk started and in a fast movement caught Light’s chin in his fingers, forcing it to remain up. “Remember what you said the first time your father was in a hospital bed?”

“Don’t,” Light whispered, trying to pull back but unable to free himself.

“He thought Kira cursed. You told me you had never been happier once we were outside.”

Soichiro closed his eyes, understanding why Ryuk had brought him here. When he lay in that bed, having just survived a heart attack from the strain of this case when Light had put on that performance for him and L. His worse fears realized at the time, that Light had already turned away from them, despite his veiled pleas to his son that it was still possible to stop no matter how scarcely he was able to believe such a possibility as Light's guilt. 

He’s trying to help me, make it easier so that I can at least let Light go, if not kill him, in the end. Or perhaps provoke me into action since he accuses me of not helping myself, as he sees it.

“Human owners of a Death Note are cursed,” Ryuk intoned, Light trembling, quiet noise from the chains on him shaking. “You still happy, Light-o?”

Light’s face twisted up, his mouth a snarl as he fought a little harder to try to get himself free from the Shinigami’s cold hand. “You told.”

“No,” Ryuk answered, tilting his head. “He figured it all out. He really didn’t want to believe what you’d done. And you blame him for this because you finally hit another person you couldn’t kill. Didn’t think you still had that. Thought for sure you’d kill him when the time came.”

Light swallowed, silent, grimacing as Ryuk finally released him, Light dragging in a rattling inhale.

“See ya, Light-o,” Ryuk said, turning and lumbering back through the walls.

With a shaking hand, Light managed to wipe his mouth, having to curl up more to reach that far. Soichiro remembered that he was being threatened with a tube down his throat if he didn’t take in food, Near wanting him to face the reality he had made for himself.

Ryuk was beside him again and Soichiro forced himself to look up, Ryuk’s expression for once unreadable.

“He used me from the beginning, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

He let out a breath, making his eyes stay open as he tried not to think of Light’s interest, of his coldness even then when they spoke of Kira.

Sayu proclaimed she hated Kira even back when it started. How it must have grated on him to know we wouldn’t support him in his madness.

Ryuk leaned down, watching him. “You still love him, don’t you? Even if I told you that he proclaimed himself a god five days in, you still won’t abandon him, will you?”

“He’s still my child,” Soichiro whispered, Ryuk with a small frown before he straightened back up.

“I’ll be back,” the Shinigami said, airy but it was obvious he was upset even if the creature so rarely showed such a thing as it turned, wandering off into a different part of the building.

Awareness seeped in that he wasn’t by himself here as one of the men came and offered to take him back to his family and he agreed, body with that forever ache that would never leave him as they walked.

I wish it was enough. That I could turn my back. All of this would be a thousand times easier if I could just walk away from him.

He didn’t look back, grateful that both of them were in the room when he got there, Sachiko simply seeing his face and putting an arm around him, kissing his cheek, not saying a thing.

Chapter Text

There was whispering outside of the door as he sat half slumped in a chair and Sachiko put herself together again in their bathroom. He wasn’t sure at first who it was, only that they were hesitant. Not that he was surprised, his own men, while not avoiding him, were not coping well with seeing him. There weren’t words for this. Soichiro knew that. No comfort to be given with what lay before him.

“You aren’t alone,” Aizawa had told him quietly the day before as they waited for Near to plan out the final decision on what to tell the world and what to do with the prisoners.

They still were, in a way. There would never be a way for the rest to know what it was like to love a monster, only the betrayal of having met one.

Straining, he tried to figure out who was out there and he swore it was Matsuda who said, “He wants you to bother him.”

I do? he thought before his thoughts turned to Sayu. She had gone to be by herself, not understanding why he and his wife were trying to prepare for Light’s death, that life imprisonment – while its own cruelty – could not somehow be an option.

For the amount Light had taken, there weren’t other answers and he dragged in air, reminding himself that he was alive for better or for worse and they needed him, even Light. A knock, quiet, as if hoping he wouldn’t hear but he had.

“Come in,” he said, voice gruffer than he intended but it couldn’t be helped.

It was Sayu and Matsuda, the latter gently steering her in. Years ago, he had brought Matsuda over for dinner on more than one occasion, trying to help give him a footing since his own family thrust this career on him but barely acknowledged he existed in the world. And Matsuda wasn’t stupid, no matter how well he expertly stuck his foot in his mouth. There were definite strengths about him as the two came forward and Soichiro worried more that Matsuda felt everything too much.

If Sayu had someone to talk to, he wasn’t going to begrudge it. Matsuda was kind and while the man was many things, taking advantage of a distressed woman was not something he would do.

“Mom?”

He waved a hand towards the bathroom feeling as listless as he probably looked, his lack of sleep unraveling him more. “She’ll be out in a few minutes.”

I’m surprised you’re speaking to me at all after his morning.

This morning when Sayu had declared he was no better than Light for wanting to do this, storming out, face streaming with tears and nowhere to go.

He had half a mind to go to Near and ask if he was happy yet but she was always going to lose Light.

“I saw Near,” she started and he nodded, watching her chew at her lip. “He told me about testing the rules when I asked. About what would happen in the best case scenario if he was given to authorities.”

And we don’t even have a guarantee for that even if we hand him over in good faith. It could all be a lie to get him imprisoned to find a way to force him to work for the highest bidder till they find that he can’t. Or he breaks and tells them of the Death Note and all of us are in danger.

There wasn’t anything proper to say to her as he watched Sayu wrap her arms around herself, Matsuda with an arm encircling her shoulders.

“I had him take us to see Light.”

Soichiro closed his eyes. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, Sayu back in front of a now mute Light. His son hadn’t said anything since he saw him that day in his cell, held him, and knew he had revealed his guilt, barring that short visit from Ryuk. No other way existed for Light to know of Mikami, to confess his fears of death the way he had.

“He only said one word,” Sayu continued on, her voice breaking but still strong and he marveled that she was holding together. “When I asked him if he was guilty.”

Sachiko had come out, most likely lured by the voice of her daughter, and stopped by his side. Sayu was looking at him and he worried that Light had lied to her one last time. The terrible look in her eyes made him fear Light hadn’t.

I shouldn’t be surprised that he wouldn’t kill her. I doubt he ever seriously considered it, no matter the rationalizations he had for himself at the time and the cost to him, to us.

“He’ll die like that man?” she asked and he nodded again, unable to find words to comfort her with. “He won’t feel anything?”

“That’s what we want,” Sachiko answered for them. “We don’t know if we’ll be allowed.”

Sachiko was moving and he realized it was to get the paper they had been working on since Sayu left. Matsuda was obviously uncomfortable but Sayu tugged at him and he sat down with her on the little loveseat. The paper was handed over and they both read it.

“We’re behind you if this is what you want to do,” Ide had told him earlier. “I can’t imagine, none of us can, but we understand why you would want this over the other options.”

“If – there’s no good way to put this,” Aizawa added, looking him in the eyes, Soichiro knowing what was coming before it was said. “We are willing to do this so that it isn’t on you or them. I know you think that it should be you –“

“I am his father.”

“You don’t need to be his executioner,” Mogi replied, his voice even, pained and Soichiro had wondered what they thought of him. “I’ll write whatever you want. Don’t let him destroy what you have left. We understand you want him to not be tortured, but don’t torture yourself –“ Mogi’s voice broke, his large hands clenched at his side as Aizawa for once had nothing to interject with. “Please, let us help you.”

“You won’t make him confess?” Sayu asked as Sachiko took a seat in a chair beside his.

“We don’t want to make him compelled to do anything,” Soichiro said. “As much as I want answers, to know,” – to hear him admit the damn truth -, “I don’t want to do that to him.”

She nodded, offering a watery smile and Soichiro wondered what she was thinking about. Between those two, there had to be so many little secret moments. A long time ago, they had been close, Light was her protector, her best friend, she was the only one that could get a word out of him when he was upset.

“I don’t want him to suffer. Even after…I don’t want that.”

“We don’t either,” Sachiko said, taking his hand and he was still amazed she remained.

“Yes, I want to blame you. It would be so easy to blame you, say it was your work, what you brought home, that you weren’t here to guide him. But I can’t because, seeing you, I know it’s as false as all his lies.”

“If I had been here –“

“We don’t know, Soichiro, if it would have changed anything. I didn’t stop all that constant praise, the demands that he be perfect. I still remember when he had the flu at one point and I didn’t know how bad he was feeling. Do you remember? He went to school and didn’t do quite as well as normal.”

“Yes.”

“All that unrest because he had slipped, once, because he felt he couldn’t ask for help. I should have done something then –“

“It’s not your fault. He’s not the first with unreasonable expectations.”

“No, but he is the first for this. Trying to remake the world because he lost hope. I’m scared to stop being angry. I don’t know what I’ll have left after that.”

“Sachiko.”

“I’m watching you tear yourself apart. You are a good man. You have always been a good man.”

His wife still had the dullness to her eyes, as though the world had stopped being real and she had accepted she had already lost everything. He wondered how many years they would spend like this if there would ever be a time that she would smile, find joy, allow herself to be happy, or if when Light died they went with him. What would Sayu do, in the aftermath, would she join them in simply waiting to cease?

The idea of Light being a scared little boy that had panicked and broken because he had found out the notebook was real was an idea that he couldn’t get out of his head.

“Did – did his lifespan change yet, when you saw him last?”

He shook his head. “No, but given the circumstances, it can change at any time for him.”

If it’s still the same the next time I see him, I might break his neck myself to avoid him being kept alive in torment in some hellhole, damn the consequences.

“I don’t understand why he did this,” Sayu whispered and Soichiro knew she had told her brother the same thing. “I tried asking Ryuk but he wouldn’t say. I –“

“You can see the Shinigami?” Sachiko interjected, alarmed but Sayu just nodded.

“It has to stay with us, with dad, right? It would be better if I could see it.”

With a small sigh, Sachiko relaxed, looking displeased but resigned. It was something that needed to happen, further damning Light that this thing existed, that what they were talking about for Sayu wasn’t a made-up fantasy.

The killings had stopped. They knew at this point, they would not restart unless another Shinigami came to earth to begin again and given what Ryuk had said, he doubted any were energetic or invested enough to follow through on that.

“You still believe he’s guilty. After everything we went through, proven, risked Matsuda and countless others for, you still won’t let it go.”

L hadn't bothered to hide a sly smile. “Why do you say that, Yagami-san?”

“Because you want to test these forsaken rules!”

“To know the truth. Why are you so resistant or are you afraid of the answer?”

L’s taunt all those years ago filled his mind as he watched his daughter slowly break, her eyes a mix of rage and love as she stared at the paper that would end a part of her.

“The Shinigami only said that he made his own choices, that nothing made him this way. I – I –“ she couldn’t get words out, leaning into Matsuda.

“It’s not your fault,” Matsuda told her quietly. “I don’t think any of us would have been able to save him.”

“I know what you have asked for, Yagami-san,” Near had told him this morning. “I dislike that I am considering this as a viable option.”

Sayu was crying again, Sachiko staring up at the ceiling to keep herself together until she couldn’t and the hour was approaching when all of this would become real.

Light had finally told someone the truth and Soichiro hoped his daughter wouldn’t be crushed under it.

Sachiko had walked with him to the room Ruvie had talked to him in so she would know where he was, opening the window slightly before kissing his head and leaving. Just a few minutes alone, to collect himself, be reminded that the world was not this building, a concept he was having difficulty with.

Fresh air helped a good deal with this. Staying inside, away from the sun, the warmth of the day, breathing in air that was cycled through vents and filters condensed his view more. Not that his mind wouldn't be endlessly circling the same thought over and over as if he couldn't relinquish the want to torment himself, but a reminder that there was more helped alleviate a little of the weight. 

Ryuk was leaning up against the far wall, arms folded, as if waiting for this burden to be done.

The waiting was exhausting, wringing out the little vitality he had left but he feared when it was over, of the emptiness that felt like it was lapping at his heels to fill where Light had been.

Thinking of what Ryuk had told him, what Light had declared, Soichiro licked his lips, trying to put words in order to get out what he wanted to ask.

"How does he do it? Keep ownership with a lifespan?"

Ryuk let out a low chuckle. "He's good at loopholes. Finds out things I didn't even know were true."

Soichiro doubted at this juncture that he'd get a complete answer, Ryuk letting out a petulant sound due to the look he gave.

"You want to know, don't you?"

"He still has his memories and his lifespan. It's the only way any of this works."

If you've told the truth. I want it to be a lie, all of this to be a lie.

A shrug, something unnervingly human in that gesture as Ryuk seemed amused by this entire conversation. "It's not ownership per say. It's more that he juggled so that he didn't give up the knowledge."

"Ah."

That raised so many questions, the complicated rule set these books seemed to abide by, and they did appear fairly concrete. For all their inaction, the Shinigami themselves were governed by some kind of law that was enforced even haphazardly. Perhaps in another lifetime, he would have wanted to know more, about who set down these rules, and where they came from. If there had been a time when this had happened before, the books being present on earth seeing as there were laws about human use. Soichiro wouldn't doubt that they had been shaped by past experience.

Perhaps trying to circumvent these rules was what made Light wait so long to do anything with Misa - it wasn't waiting but his son trying to find a way to not look guilty in his eyes while retaining his role as Kira, what had really mattered to Light. He couldn't see Light willing to give up the falsehood he had made for himself, convinced that it would waste whatever progress he thought he had forced on the world when it was really more of the same, just a different breed of injustice. 

Misa would have been able to tell him if he had succeeded before he stripped her of her knowledge and recruited Mikami.

It was meaningless now and this was only a passing curiosity to what he wanted to know. He had no power over whether a Shinigami existed, killed in order to continue its own life, gave a book to a mortal, or any other action these creatures participated in.

Whether Light was an owner or had done something entirely different made no difference. Light had worn the mantle of Kira quite proudly since the beginning, unable to recognize his own tyranny.

And he probably always had a way to reclaim his perceived rightful ownership once I was gone, at least in his mind when he was inciting himself into this plan, pushing us all away.

“You came five days in,” he started, Ryuk focusing more on him.

“Yeah. I have a certain amount of time to make an appearance once a human picks up a Death Note.”

I wonder if he would have had to go to Mikami eventually, or if Light lent it, and he doesn’t. How many of these cursed books were here this time? Will I have to witness when they make the inevitable return to the planet?

“What – what did he think –“ he still can’t get the words out, the contrast between Sayu saying he had completely stopped eating versus Light’s claim of godhood.

And Light – had he already lost his mind? Ryuk said he was busy. Did he believe the shadow of death was looming and he felt that it was good to rid the world of what he saw as evil before he was snuffed out?

Ryuk let out a breath, face unreadable, and Soichiro dearly missed the strange over-eagerness the Shinigami had at times before. It made him forget this was a creature far older than he was capable of imagining, having watched the endless pits of human misery – of what they did to themselves.

A shift, those bright eyes on him, and Soichiro wondered if Ryuk was tired of him, would get tired of what he termed his moping and simply find a way to end this.

“He thought I was there to take his soul,” Ryuk reluctantly said, as though he was admitting a secret to the universe and Soichiro rubbed his hands on his face, knocking his glasses a little.

And then, he found out it was just a bored Shinigami and Light didn’t want it to be bored because – Oh Light.

Soichiro forced his attention back to the open window, smelling the air as it moved around them. It didn’t matter now, that was years ago. Perhaps, back when this all started, perhaps there could have been an appeal to mercy but given what Light had done, it played no part in what was to come.

Light had still killed those agents, L’s stand-in, made those prisoners behave as he saw fit before their death most likely due to him seeing what was and was not possible. All of that within the first few weeks, far before all the crimes he had committed that brought them here. His son was gone after he had discovered the truth of the book, only fragments of what once was remained and surfaced from time to time, before they, too, fell away to nothing.

He wondered if Light had been empty and how he had missed it.

"I thought you were the same stubborn as him," Ryuk went on, still watching with that unnerving stare, those yellow eyes and mouth full of teeth and Soichiro made himself draw in air. "But you aren't."

Swallowing, rubbing his lips together, his hand curling on his cane, Soichiro forced back whatever anger he felt those words were meant to provoke. "It doesn't matter now."

The strange notion surfaced that Light had forever trapped himself with the knowledge of who he truly was, unable to shed it by revoking ownership. Compassion that he thought long since torn apart made him ache over the idea - there simply was no way out for Light remaining. He would die as Kira.

"He always had a reason, no matter what had happened, he was always able to find a way to make it work. You though - you stayed the same the whole way despite what it meant. Don't see many like you - most would have walked."

Soichiro stared at Ryuk, uncertain if he was being insulted or praised.

“Yagami-san.”

Turning he saw Aizawa coming towards him and he felt bitter at being disturbed as a chair was moved closer and the man sat. Aizawa leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, hands clasped. He looked better than he had, shaven, clothes neater, but the ever-present fatigue that plagued them all was still present, a worn look that settled on his face that spoke of sleepless nights.

“I talked with Near earlier. He said that if he decides to go with what your family wants, you have to allow one of his men to write. It can be whatever is decided amongst you.”

Soichiro closed his eyes and nodded. It made sense, to not let him destroy himself even if it felt it should be him. He had led Light down this path and it felt fitting to see it to the end.

“Has he decided then?”

“We’ll be summoned and given a timetable as to what to expect with however this is going to go. I hope – “Aizawa cut himself off and Soichiro could hear him clear his throat.

“I know,” he replied because he did. There were no good options, only less horrifying ones.

“He said to pass on that he’s willing to not force a confession if none of you want to compel it.”

Not that Near wouldn’t want one. 

It was a relief all the same to hear, that Light wouldn’t be compelled to act and say and do whatever they commanded and Soichiro nodded. He doubted Light would ever be able to voice honestly why he'd done what he had done. It was an impossibility by this point, his son had dragged himself into a pit over five years ago and there was no way to climb back out. Maybe it always would have been impossible.

There were no other viable outcomes. Either Light would be executed peacefully with the book, they would execute him here by traditional means, or he would be handed over and just that thought made his stomach lurch at the sheer amount of possibilities that contained.

Opening his eyes he found Aizawa staring out at the leaves, and Soichiro wanted to ask him to stay. He knew the man wouldn’t idly chatter and he didn’t want to be alone but he couldn’t find his voice.

Aizawa settled back in the chair after a moment, one leg stretched out, hands in a loose tangle in his lap as they waited for Sachiko to come and collect him in a while.

They sat in the main room that he always met Near in, Sayu and Sachiko at his side with his team behind them. Near was sitting across from them, mask in place, his men around the edges of the room with only Ruvie nearby.

“I have been asked to provide proof of death for Kira,” Near begin and Sachiko put a hand over her mouth to stifle a sound. “It has been pointed out that there have been lulls in the killings before and as much as I hate the reasoning, I can understand that. They do not want to be blind-sighted when the damage is sorted through.

“As for the books, I plan to destroy one and give the other back to the Shinigami as I have no want to make a near-immortal being my enemy.”

“I call that a good plan,” Ryuk answered, amused with a smile that showed all his teeth.

“At the natural end of Soichiro Yagami’s life, you will be given back the one we have. I am not foolish enough to ask for a promise, but I would request we have no repeats for the rest of our natural lifespans.”

“I suppose,” Ryuk drawled. “I’m stuck with him anyways, might as well. And there’s only so much humanity I can take in one sitting. By the time he dies, I’ll be ready to leave.”

“Good.” Near turned his head back towards them and Soichiro tried to breathe in normally and failed. “Misa Amane has no memories. I am aware she was most likely an active participant in Kira’s plans, at least at certain points in her life. But, in the state she is in now, sending her to die is…uncomfortable. Given her mental decline, I am arranging for her to be placed in a secured psychiatric facility. The staff will be debriefed and told that her fiancée died as a victim of Kira. As she is, she does not pose an active threat as she has no true knowledge of the truth and I cannot justify another solution. It is feasible she will spend the rest of her natural life there.”

Soichiro could hear shifting behind him, the silent acceptance that there was truth to these words despite personal feelings. 

What good would her death be except to add to the already senseless pile? Pat ourselves on the back in our righteousness, that we killed a murderer that can barely speak lucidly? Utika is still dead. All the others she took are still dead. 

The idea of watching Misa die just made that hollow that numbed him grow hungrier and he banished the thought, trying not to think there were probably no options where she would ever be whole if she ever had been.

“Light Yagami is a different matter. I know L was advocating the death penalty. Many involved in the shadows have spoken that if Kira is not dead, he must be made so. That his crimes outweigh everything else. I have spent my life following in someone’s footsteps who saw the logic of this. Light showed no mercy while he was Kira, I would not doubt that he took pleasure in his power and his ability to hold people’s lives in his hands. That he fears his own death does not come as a surprise, only an irony when he gave so little to the world around him.”

To Soichiro’s shock, Near reached up and removed his mask, revealing a youthful face with eyes that betrayed how little rest he had gotten. He was so young, it made Soichiro ache thinking that five years had passed since his mentor had died. And his name, something he could never use, was finally visible: Nate River.

This young man would be deciding everything and Soichiro both wanted to protest and beg as Near’s eyes fell on him.

“I am also not L,” Near said quietly. “You can see now, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Am I going to die soon?”

“No.”

Near nodded, his smile sad. “I haven’t slept in days considering what to do. And, it is a question that has plagued me since I began all this – what to do with Kira when I finally caught him? One thing that has stuck with me is that simply executing him does not excise all evil. It is the same trap Light fell into – we cannot expunge all the bad from the world through death. If I turn him over and he is executed, and that is what will eventually happen if I do so, it merely continues the cycle in a different way. I feel it is better for the idea of Kira to slip away from the world quietly, to not be a show or a lesson of fear to force people in the other direction.

“And, I would be remiss to omit that I, too, had thoughts of seeing him executed, of imagining a satisfaction in his death. The cost of it, whatever victory it provides feels fleeting. L is still dead along with all the others he took.”

“You plan to use Mikami,” Aizawa said, and Soichiro risked a look, seeing little emotion on the officer’s face.

“Yes. Everything about him aligns with who Kira was. It is easy to say other incarnations, or participants in this narrative, are dead. Amane is simply a grieving woman who lost everything to Kira. Mikami was troubled for a long time and also has no living family, though his colleagues will suffer under scrutiny if my advice isn’t heeded and the information becomes public. I am confident, after I remind them of the number of cases he has had a hand in, that they will keep their mouths shut. The headache for the courts would last for years, not to mention the media frenzy. That he comes already dead, limits their benefit greatly if they want to take a name public.

“This is more of a mercy than your son deserves, Yagami-san, and I caution you, it may end up being crueler than any of us intend. Visitation will be limited to phone for family at set times. He will not be around people. I am securing a place where he will not have to be shackled like he is, but it will be remote. He will be isolated and while provided with things such as books, he will have only himself. If his suffering becomes too great, we may have to consider the other option.”

Light will live? It can’t – I didn’t think  – 

“I understand,” he got out, Sachiko quietly beginning to weep beside him.

“When you speak to him next, Yagami-san, pass along that I would like an accounting of his actions. I do not expect it right away as I think he will believe I am looking to entrap him. But, eventually, I would like to know how he became what he did and the extent of his crimes.

“Otherwise, his location will only be known to a handful that will be charged with his care. I plan to burn the book after we finish with the evidence collection in front of all here and the other will be kept under the same security. Aizawa-san, are you comfortable with this? Yagami-san should touch it once per year until his death to keep his ability.”

“Yes,” Aizawa answered. “If that is what he wants, I’m willing.”

“Good. I would rather we continue in this way then.” Near shifted his gaze, settling on something else, looking amused despite his fatigue. “Yes, Matsuda-san? You seem to want to say something despite them trying to get you not to.”

“I – um,” Matsuda started and Soichiro turned, seeing an upset and flustered Matsuda. Sayu mouthed at him to go ahead and Matsuda cleared his throat. “Not that I don’t agree, I’m not quite sure I follow why you decided to spare him.”

“Punishment should not be confused with retribution. Killing Light in no way brings back the dead, repairs the damage, or even brings long-term satisfaction to the anger we feel. In fact, it could be argued that it hurts more than it helps. It would further traumatize his family to watch him die as they are as much victims of his actions as the rest. If it becomes leaked that we executed Kira in a secret trial, the outcome may be more fevered support instead of turning people away from the ideology he espoused. And that is not even touching the very real possibilities of Light being kept alive to try to harvest this power or being executed in front of a global audience which will destroy his family. As for our other option, I have no wish to add to his family’s already heavy burden if at all possible.

“Right now, while I do not have it all worked out how I want it, I am planning to tell the interested parties that Mikami killed himself, which is the truth. His body will be available and while it will drive conspiracy theories if leaked, his inglorious death and severe beliefs found in his journals will help with the issue of growing support.

“I know I am asking the people here to carry a great secret but it is already one you would be asked to carry in some way. I have no plans on making Light’s identity public. While I detest it, in the public eye, he will be dead as one of the last Kira victims. This option also protects those present as the knowledge that such books exist must be taken to our graves, especially while Yagami-san is alive. If I handed Light over and he tells of them, all involved could be hunted and that is the last thing I want.

“And, Light, how he is, is not a threat. He never killed anyone without using the book. I do not know if he can, he will not be given the opportunity, and he will be kept in an area where even if he gets a book by an adventurous Shinigami and barters for the eyes, it will do him no good outside of killing those he already knows, drawing attention to himself and sealing his fate.”

“You feel an execution is unnecessary,” Ide added and Near nodded.

“In this case, yes, given the circumstances. This is something that is easily in my power to grant, just as his death would be. And death is absolute, there is no coming back from it. No need or danger exists right now that demands he must die. It is disturbingly easy to justify cruelty, to inflict suffering when suffering has been inflicted. As I said, I do not know if he will be able to tolerate this decision, and there may be a time that we must face killing him, but if that comes to pass, those here may have been able to find closure instead of allowing us all to sink into the depths with him.

"If there are no objections.”

“It’s better than he deserves, especially after all he did. He never asked his victims anything,” Aizawa replied his voice cold before he sighed, Soichiro not able to look over. “For Yagami-san and his family, I’m willing to do it. I think we all are. I don’t know how well Light will take to such a state but I don’t particularly want to watch his death either.”

He knew the rest must have shown agreement because Near let out a breath, relaxing slightly.

“We have already discussed it amongst ourselves and the opinion is the same. We will move forward with this plan and Light will be moved in a few days' time.”

“Thank you,” Soichiro whispered, holding Sachiko close to him, Sayu on the other side of her mother with her face pressed into her shoulder. “I know he’s a monster.”

“That spared your life.”

Soichiro closed his eyes, nodding, feeling a hand on his shoulder and knowing it was Aizawa without looking.

Chapter Text

These past several days had been especially bad for memories. So many small moments, things he had not thought of in years, swirled and became vibrant in his mind, crystalizing in all the quiet moments - when he tried to rest, sleep, simply be. Memories of Light when he was little, memories of his victories in his childhood, just simply memories of Light sitting at the dinner table seemingly happy that they were all together and it was close to too much. So much that threatened to consume him and he couldn't rectify all of them with the child he had now.

Having these memories felt like breaking. Shame over what Light was, the ugliness of the truth being known at all, guilt that he had caused this with his choices not fitting properly against the idea of a smiling Light presenting his grades before running off to bicker with his sister.

This would be the last time he saw his son like this as the door was opened and he walked in, the chair waiting before him. The sound of the chains gave away that Light was restless before he was visible as Soichiro sat his aching body down, Ryuk lingering in his corner as he always did here.

Tomorrow, they were going home and Soichiro wasn’t sure how difficult living would be.

If he was anyone else, they wouldn’t be doing this. Light would be dead or be shipped off to an unknown destination to face his sentence. Maybe it would have been better, it would have allowed us the chance to pretend he ceased to exist after he was handed over. That he just wasn’t here, anymore, perhaps never had been, to begin with.

Looking up, he could see Light torn between demanding the verdict and being too afraid to ask, his lifespan unchanged still.

Is this a mercy or a curse, what we plan?

Leaning forward, he put his hands on top of his cane as the guards left him.

“When you were about ten months old your mother became pregnant. I remember telling you about her. We thought it was a girl and you were so excited. We’d had difficulties before we had you but everything seemed to be going well, at that point, and we felt we could say something.”

Light stared at him confused before it seemed to slowly occur to him what had happened.

“I know you don’t remember this. It’s how we wanted it.” Soichiro smiled, clearing his throat. “When your mother was around twenty-two weeks along she went into labor and they couldn’t stop it. We had no idea what caused it. The lungs were severely under-developed and she never took a breath. We had her quietly buried.”

Light sat down and even from where he was, Soichiro could see him trembling. He remembered the day Light was born, warm and alive and beautiful, a tiny, fragile life.

“When we lost Misaki I thought I lost your mother, too,” he continued, keeping his voice steady as he said a name that he hadn’t spoken in so long. Perhaps, they should have talked about it, told their children. “Her eyes were so dim and she was listless. She had this fear that you would die at any time and I think, for a while, she refused to be close to anyone because she was afraid of death. Sayu was a happy accident and while difficult, arrived healthy, and we made the decision at that point to ensure that we had no more children.”

Light put a hand over his mouth, showing actual emotion as Soichiro calmed himself, keeping his focus.

“I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to make sure she didn’t outlive her children.” His voice did break, Light letting out a small sound and he made himself go on. “You died in the line of duty. Near will be moving you to a different confinement where you will live the rest of your life. You will not have contact with your guards, there will be set times for us to call –“

The sound that tore its way out of Light silenced him for a moment as he watched his son, shaking, face in his hands, alone behind bars, in chains, on a thin cot in a sterile room. There was so little he could offer and nothing would reverse what Light had done. He worried when the day came and all of Light’s rationalizations came crashing down and his son finally faced that he was a murderer. Not a savior, or a god, or anything else but simply a boy with a weapon and misguided notions that Soichiro would forever blame himself for.

Light managed to not fully break down. Soichiro marveled at his control, wondering how many years it took Light to reach this point where he buried everything.

“I don’t know how this will go, Light,” he said when he felt he could go on. “It may be far more difficult for you than any of us realize. It will be lonely. Near most likely will tell you more of what to expect and there will be more provided than you have here. I would suggest you take him up on anything he offers, your pride isn’t worth keeping.”

“Why?” Light asked and Soichiro knew what he was asking.

“You should ask him, he would like an accounting from you when you’re ready,” Soichiro said, rising, not wanting to see his son and loathe to leave him this last time. “I love you, Light, but I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you.”

He walked to the door and it opened for him, Ryuk came with him but he didn’t miss how the Shinigami looked back. He wondered if Ryuk was capable of regret, if he saw them any differently, or if they were simply a means to pass the time.

As he returned to Near, he worried if Light would eventually come to terms with what he was or just grow his hatred until they all became guilty.

He found his men with Near and he knew they had been watching his final interaction with his son, at least in person. Soon, Light would be gone. Sachiko and Sayu were going later and while he wanted them not to, he knew they needed to. Aizawa had already said he would accompany them.

“I will take care of the rest,” Near said quietly. “Go and rest, Yagami-san.”

Strangely he didn’t feel coldly dismissed as he considered that this would be the last time he saw all his men together like this, the ones who had stayed and faced certain death to bring in what turned out to be someone he loved. There was no judgment as they looked on, Aizawa coming to him.

While it had started as an act to extend his hand, Soichiro supposed, after all these years and what they faced, that he shouldn't have been surprised when the man half embraced him instead, Aizawa whispering, “It’s not your fault.”

Not that he was able to believe those words as he returned it, the rest following Aizawa’s lead, Matsuda last and Soichiro knew there was more weight on him. Maybe he had been saying the wrong words.

“I forgive you,” he told Matsuda and felt fingers curl up against him, Matsuda struggling to keep his composure.

Ide collected Matsuda when he stepped back, Soichiro seeing the pain still in those eyes as he turned and went to his waiting wife and daughter, feeling like his life had ended in a way that could never be restarted.

The fact that Light had never lived in this house made this easier and infinitely harder as he walked inside his home for the first time in over a month. There was still relief as he turned on a light to combat the growing darkness of dusk outside and saw that everything was essentially how he had left it. Restor and Sayu were bringing in the little bit that they had with them that had been placed in bags provided by Near’s team when the clothes had originally been brought.

“Just in the laundry room,” he heard Sachiko tell them and it wasn’t wrong.

The scent of mustiness and disuse hadn’t really set in yet as something caught his attention on his desk in the study.

“Please let us know if you need anything,” Restor was saying and Soichiro nodded. “Otherwise, we’ll be in touch.”

Bone-grinding fatigue was in him as he went to his desk, already knowing what he would find and hating that he needed to look.

Light’s baby book sat where he had left it.

There would never be a day when his son would come home no matter where they were living at that point. Light had condemned himself to a life of isolation, of nothing, and he wondered how long it would take for what was left of his sanity to begin slipping.

“Papa?”

Instinctively, he moved to cover the book as if to protect her before he caught himself, Sayu coming to stand beside him as he stared helplessly down at it. They had to have seen it after he originally left them to confront his son, wondering what was going on. Belatedly, he worried that Sayu felt he didn’t care about her over her brother, something she had once accused him of when she had been younger and hot-headed, anxious over the world and his constant absences, even more so when Light started being gone with him.

Before he could reach out and try to take it to put it back she pulled it closer to her, opening the cover, revealing her mother’s neat writing and a picture of him holding Light in the hospital. Sachiko had always liked that one over the one with her, claiming he looked alive instead of her half-dead in bed.

Words wouldn’t come as his hand tightened on the top of his cane, wanting to be somewhere where this wasn’t the reality they were facing for decades to come. She was quiet, her head bowed as she turned the page and he wondered if Sachiko had gone to do the laundry to give herself a focus for the next few minutes.

He hadn’t listened to or asked about their last visit.

“He thinks we’ll forget him,” Sayu said, voice very soft, words almost inaudible as she turned another page. “That we’ll just stop calling.”

“He said that?” Soichiro couldn’t help but be surprised that his near-mute son had said a word, getting a small nod, Sayu not lifting her head as she touched a photo of Light asleep on a blanket.

“They let me go in first for a few minutes by myself. I thought he might talk to me if there wasn’t anyone else –“ she paused, clearing her throat, face still hidden. “I want to. I want to not know what he did – all those people. Even if most of them did bad things, it was still – he still killed them.”

Reaching out to take the book, he shouldn’t have been surprised when she dragged it to her more, stepping away.

“I asked him earlier if he had been able to do this because he couldn’t see them die. That it had just been writing a name and believing he had some authority to treat them that way.” A small breath, a sigh, as she turned another page and he was close to begging her to put it away, that he didn’t want to see all the potential her brother had once had that had slipped away into this cruelty. “I want to be sorry that he killed murderers and rapists. I’m sorry he killed officers, people trying to catch him but –“

“No one deserves to be treated that way,” Soichiro told her when she trailed off. “They’re still human, no matter what they’ve done. Treating them like animals – it’s no better.”

He tried not to think of Light’s fate. Near had told him to think of it more like a solitary monk than a caged death row inmate but there was no guarantee that Light wouldn’t end up like the men in prison – cornered with nothing to live for, waiting for death.

Does he deserve anything? Most would argue that he doesn’t – that he took so that he deserves to have nothing, not even a place that is more than cement and bare walls. Not even his life.

“Roger – he told me that Mello used to look after Near, keep the other kids from messing with him. I think – what he said – that Mello always felt he wasn’t good enough. Did he do all the things he did to prove he was better?”

“Yes.”

“I asked Near when he was telling us about what he planned to do if he would take Mello in if he came back, if he asked.” Sayu finally looked up, her eyes wet as her control slipped more and more. “Mello did bad things to him, too, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” he answered, thinking of what he had been told, of most of the SPK being forced to kill themselves in front of Near and his handful left after Mello had gained the book and resolved for his daughter to never find that out. “This isn’t your fault –“

“It isn’t yours either,” she shot back, her face getting angrier. “You were always against Kira, even when it was just killing bad people. Looking back, I realized he always excused himself to go study when it was brought up. He could have stopped then. We never would have found out if he had just suddenly stopped. But, he flaunted it to everyone, didn’t he? He made sure all of you knew that he was watching.”

“Sayu.” He tried reaching out for her but she sidestepped him dragging the book along the desk top, her hand clutching it to the point of being white.

The last thing he really wanted to think about was just how his son had used his position to mistreat everyone he claimed to care for.

Was the world really that bad to him, or did he just like the power?

“I know,” she whispered as his body felt cold. “I know he set it up for you to die if the rules were tested.”

“He didn’t want to be caught. I always knew he might try for that.” It was all there was to offer in the face of her rage, the utter betrayal of what someone she loved so much would have done. “It’s why I tried to surprise him when I left that morning. I just waited too long –“

“There shouldn’t have been a too long!” Her voice was raised, her body trembling as tears finally spilled out. “You sat in here looking at this trying to understand while he plotted to do – to do that,” she spat out. “He got that man to take over to save himself. Would he have done it if it had been you that wrote down the name? Would he have done it himself if he could have?”

“I don’t know.” His mind was filled with Light’s rambling about not letting him kill himself, his son’s rationalizations over the terrible choices made but he honestly didn’t know if Light hadn’t become so trapped if there was still a chance for his own survival if he would have said a word. Ryuk’s claim that Light had declared himself a god five days in against Sayu’s memories of her sleepless brother losing weight to the point where she searched his things looking to see if he was eating at all.

Was it then? Did he lose his mind then, writing down names because he believed he was damned and then, when that wasn’t the case, came up with a new story to tell himself?

“He had to be perfect,” Sachiko had told him last night after Light had been removed and they were set to go home in the morning. “Everything, everything he did he had to be perfect in his mind and I wish I had told him that he didn’t have to be that.”

“It would be easier if he was dead.”

Startled he looked at his daughter whose attention was back on the book, one of her hands furiously wiping at her face, an agitation as though her sorrow wasn’t deserved and needed to be gone.

“Sayu –“

“Don’t. If he had just died. Even if we had to do it, it would have been better. He’d just be gone and we wouldn’t have to worry –“ she cut herself off and he knew what one of the problems was.

“He’s still here,” he said, keeping his voice gentle, seeing her shake her head. “I don’t pretend to understand him, but there’s still a part of him left –“

“He was going to kill you!”

“He rationalized to himself why it had to be.” Taking a breath, Soichiro steadied himself because not saying the truth would help no one. “He blamed it on me. I know he does now. But, if it had happened, I don’t think he would have mentally survived it. It was honestly the last thing he wanted to do.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“No. Sayu, I wish you didn’t know. I’d rather you just thought he ran off –“

“Then I wouldn’t know it was his fault I was taken. That you made that trade, made the other one, because of what he was doing.” Her voice was low, her hands trembling as she clutched at the book of her brother, the one she had grown up with that had gotten in as much trouble as she did, only differently. “I wouldn’t know that it was his fault.”

I don’t know what you want me to say.

“You don’t have to participate in the phone calls. Neither of us would blame you for that.”

“I can’t leave him. I can’t – he’s still – “

“I know you still love him.”

A small sound from her and finally, carefully, he got the book away from her and closed it, pushing it to the other side of the desk, trying not to think of Light sitting in here with him, disgruntled and probably afraid that he was putting his sins together. Of Light upset over the thoughts of being replaced even when he had done nothing to be part of his own damn family.

All of it was imaginary distance that Light was trying to create in order to survive.

“I know I won’t ever see him again. That he won’t – that he may not –“ she tilted her head back, blinking repeatedly to try to get her crying to stop, her voice thick. “How terrible is it that I can’t just walk away?”

“It’s not terrible.”

It makes you human. If he just keeps going the way he had been, maybe she’ll leave him and not be drug into the mire with him because I will never forgive him if she becomes his last causality.

“He told me to not bother with him, anymore. He said to just forget him like it was that easy. I’m not him.” Her eyes were searching him for something and he was lost trying to figure out what he could say because nothing would make this better.

“I don’t think he forgot you. I think he tried to separate himself because we were in the way and it would be easier if we stopped existing. But I don’t think he ever forgot us no matter how he tried.”

“I asked Ryuk how long Light thought about just getting rid of me.”

“What?”

“When I was taken. I asked how long my brother spent thinking about writing my name and it was the only time he actually just answered. He said as far as he knew, Light never did. That he concocted the plan to trade the book from the start. I can’t –“ she stopped, taking a step nearer to him, Soichiro feeling like he was breaking apart. “He’s not going to have any kind of life. I don’t know who he is, what he even wanted outside of what he did, who he wanted to be with, but it’s all gone. He’s going to sit somewhere until he dies and I – he won’t ever be happy, will he? He could just sit somewhere, suffering and suffering and we can’t get to him. I –“

She stopped again and Soichiro coaxed her closer, getting her to put her head on him as she cried, face pressed into his shoulder.

“I’m still the owner,” he whispered to her as she calmed, not sure if he should tell her this but there was nothing else to offer and she knew everything else. “If we’ve been lied to or it is truly horrific, I can grant permission to have Ryuk retrieve the book for me.”

Her hands tightened on him for a moment and then she relaxed, her muffled voice against him, “Okay. Okay.”

Somehow he kept his own emotions at bay for a while longer, listening to Sachiko doing something somewhere, distant noises, the sound of the clock, trying not to think of the night he had sat here with the terrible truth and knowing he was about to kill his child.

Whatever time he had left, he would spend it fighting the knowledge that Light was forever lost to them in ways that could never be undone. He feared Near’s prediction of another decade of life, not sure how he would make it to tomorrow, let alone the end of this week.

“Why don’t we go find your mother?” he asked instead, letting Sayu pull away from him.

What he hadn’t expected to see as they left the tiny office was Ryuk going by with a large trash bag slung over his shoulder.

“I am not a garbage man,” the Shinigami told him, waving a hand before slamming the front door on his way out.

Sayu let out a startled little laugh, her eyes wide as they looked for Sachiko, finding her in the kitchen with a bag of apples on the counter, most likely sent with them from Near, and a large knife in hand.

“We will have to get a good deal at the store,” his wife crisply said, quartering a couple of apples and setting the pieces on a plate, seeds still in. “We were gone long enough that most of the food in the fridge was trying to crawl out.”

“I can go,” Sayu offered but got a slight head shake.

“We’ll go in a bit. I need to make a list first.”

This sounded like an entire outing and Soichiro held in a comment about his own fatigue. It was obvious Sachiko was barely holding herself together and he worried about letting her go out on her own right now, having a horrible idea of his wife breaking down in the produce section as she saw things that Light had liked.

His son was most likely now in his holding cell until Near finished whatever he was building to house him and Soichiro worried that as the years passed if Near would grow weary of his promise and simply kill him. It was one thing to promise such mercy, it was another when faced with the long-term reality of what it entailed.

Near, who with his age difference and lifespan was set to live eight years longer than Light. It was math Soichiro had done by hand after the verdict had been given, afraid that Light may outlast his jailor and finding it a hollow comfort that he wouldn’t. Sayu hadn’t said what Near’s answer was to her question about Mello but he felt he knew what it had been.

“I can eat them whole,” Ryuk said, having returned, eyeing the plate with the apple quarters. “I don’t mind.”

“What kind do you like?” Sachiko asked, barely looking at him as she picked up her knife and board to take to the sink. “That kind? We’re going to the store.”

“I –“ Ryuk paused, a piece of apple pinched in his fingers, frowning. “I don’t like the green ones as much. Too tart. But I don’t know the names. Smells I know, but I guess that isn’t how you shop for them.”

“No.”

Sachiko was washing her things as Ryuk took his plate and wandered off. Soichiro worried about keeping the Shinigami happy for whatever was left of his life, fearing Ryuk would get bored, cause trouble, and just be a general menace, apples or no, and knew that if Ryuk wasn’t in the store with them later, that Sachiko would bring a variety back simply because Ryuk was tied to him. Keeping Ryuk happy would be as essential to her as the rest because it meant he wouldn’t be threatened.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” Sayu told them and he nodded, watching her go as Sachiko finished what she was doing.

It was quiet, this house. Light had never lived here. He was selling the last place Light had lived with them, his child’s things in boxes swept up in storage. He tried not to think about going through them because Light wouldn’t be able to.

There would be a call in a few days as proof of life, as Near had put it. He wasn’t sure if Light would even talk. They had been asked how frequently they wished to speak to him and Soichiro didn’t know, still didn’t know, wanting it to be daily and never at all, as Sachiko came over to him.

“I’m sorry,” he told her as she drew near, the grief evident on her face as she struggled.

They would be struggling for the rest of their lives no matter how normal all of this became.

She shook her head, touching his face and he felt as if he had failed her most of all, even above Light who had taken his values and twisted them in an effort to escape himself.

“I told you, until the end,” she whispered and he pulled her close.

Chapter Text

Epilogue

Clothing had been sent: fine and far different than his normal attire. That had been alarming enough. Then, the only instructions he had received were that he was to put this on, make himself presentable, and wait.

A part of Light wanted to buck this, muss it all up, tear at the expensive fabrics, sneer that he wasn’t some pet to be put on display.

Another far more buried part was panicked that Near had gotten tired of keeping him and he was being shipped off. That this brief interlude, if one could call over five years of being alone for nearly every hour of the day an interlude, was over. That maybe his father had been lied to or –

Did something happen to dad?

No matter how he willed it, he couldn’t get his hands to completely stop shaking as he got everything on, the cuff on the left pant leg widened to accommodate the accessory he always wore, bulky as it was. The one that would electrocute him, first non-lethally, then lethally, if it was decided he was misbehaving.

He got himself shaved, still using electric because anything he might use in a way that could end his life was forbidden. Though he was being allowed more and more as the years went on and he thought sometimes of his long life that dad had seen and been thrilled over.

Someday, he might go insane and he worried if something happened to Near, what would become of him if the truth of who he was became more known. If Ryuk would kill him when dad died –

Stop. None of this helps or answers what’s going on.

So, unable to do anything else and reluctantly grateful he had a new event about to happen in a cascade of days that were all so similar that they slid together, he followed instructions. The only reason he paid attention to the date at all anymore was so he would know when a call was coming up.

Not that he would admit that it was the one thing he lived for, hearing them. He couldn’t, not even to himself as he checked the mirror and went to sit.

It was annoying to not know what he was waiting for or for how long he would be waiting and he didn’t hide his annoyance. Not having a clock out in the open didn’t help matters and he knew time was passing even if it felt like he was eternally trapped in the same minute. The little bit of daylight he saw from the glassed-in roof of his tiny outdoor area told him it was getting on towards dusk. The rest of the world was blocked by heavy concrete, confining him, so he could never see a horizon.

His feet tapped out a nervous little staccato tune as he tried to tell himself that no matter what happened, even if he was being dragged away, it would do no good to think about it. Of course, it was all he thought about, unable to change anything and he was aware that he had started to sweat.

“A request has been made that you close your eyes.”

Close my damn eyes? What, so I don’t see it coming? What the hell is going on? Are you just planning to shoot me here and now, Near? Just get on with it. Is this pageantry necessary outside of showing how much power you have over me?

It took a lot to push back all that anger he still had, the part that wished he had done things differently and ended up with less family in the end. To be rid of the only thing he still had in this wasteland of sameness and despair and complete failure.

[“The world is a rotten mess.”]

“Fine,” he muttered, fingers laced together as his hands sat in his lap. “Eyes closed.”

And they were as he made himself keep the same breathing, listening as the lock was finally released on the door.

The sound he heard wasn’t what he was expecting. It took a moment to place it, he hadn’t been exposed to it for so long as the heeled feet entered into the room attached to whoever owned them. A heavy swish, fabric, and he made himself wait, afraid he would shatter whatever this was and it would be just a hallucination, something he feared he might start having as the door closed and locked.

“You can open them,” said a voice that he only heard over secure connections and he forced them open, terrified.

“Sayu,” he got out, standing as she stood a few feet away.

I forgot the date – what is today –

His mind spun as he took a step forward before stopping himself, not sure what was allowed. She was rumpled a bit, her hair not as neat as it probably had been, her makeup most likely fixed multiple times before she ever got to him. Her wedding dress was shaped to her still lithe form, hair in loose waves with flowers woven in, a trail of lace from the small train as her fingers pinched up her skirts so they wouldn’t risk dragging on the bare floors and trip her.

She had gotten married today to a man who probably still wanted to shoot him, at least a little, and Near had let her come and share it with him.

“So,” she said, hesitant, swaying a little, her eyes wet for probably the hundredth time, “what do you think?”

“It’s nice, even if it looks like you slept in it.”

It was something he would have told her before and she glared, narrowed her eyes, marched over to him, and swatted his arm before just pulling him against her.

She smelled like flowers and hairspray and a dozen different things, the material of her dress strange under his hands as her oversized earrings scratched at his skin. She was warm, overly so, and with all the layers he thought she was probably uncomfortable and wanting to change out of this ungainly thing.

It was the first time he had been touched even remotely like this for years, outside of when he had gotten sick a little over two years ago, and it was almost too much, her face buried against him.

He didn’t want to let her go but he knew that he had to, that he needed to keep himself together.

“You look beautiful,” he told her as she pulled away and he let her. “I’m not real great with dates, I forgot it was today. Sorry.”

“It’s okay," she said and she seemed to sense he was overwhelmed or that she was as she stepped back. “Ugh, I can finally get out of these for a while,” she added, kicking off her heels, scowling and he actually laughed.

“You didn’t do that there?”

“I wanted to. Believe me, I really, really wanted to. But mom would have thrown a fit and knowing my luck, someone would have stepped on me. Get a few drinks in people, they start flailing around and lose the concept of personal space and balance.”

Light snorted. “Isn’t that why people go to weddings? Free drinks and drama?”

“I think I had a friend there trying to pick up one of the groom's men,” Sayu lamented and, to his surprise, she flopped herself without decorum into a nearby chair. “It just went on and on. And the pictures, oniichan, I hate that people have cameras in their phones. Constant snapping. I couldn’t pee without risking someone trying to get a photo.”

“I would think you would have closed the door.”

She scowled, shaking her head. “You joke because you didn’t have to put up with mom.”

“You could have eloped.”

Sayu let out a pained sound. “So says you. Dad still has connections. There would have been a search and he might have hit Touta with his cane then.”

Light smiled, unnerved at how she referred to Matsuda but he had to let it slide. He had no say in any of this, lost that right a long time ago. His sister looked good, happy. She had for years now despite everything, even when he could still see the hurt he tried to ignore on the rare occasions he saw them when they talked.

Sitting in the other chair here, he tried to look relaxed as he said, “I’m surprised they let you get away with wearing that dress.”

“There were concessions.” Sayu laughed the fatigue in her evident now. “It was worth it, I’ll say that despite the murder shoes, but you know mom.”

He did. The wedding picture of their parents had always been prominent in the front room of the house, mom in traditional dress and he felt that there had been plans for Sayu to wear that. Given that it had been carefully stored for three decades at this point, mom fusing about over it.

Light wondered if mom was upset that Sayu had not only gone to college but had chosen graduate school on top of it. Dad had to be happy over it though – he’d wanted more for her over the regular get married and have babies. Not for the first time he wondered if mom had wanted anything outside of raising children and he made himself not think about this. It wasn’t a good thought, especially not right now.

“You could have brought food with you.”

“Have you seen dad’s friends eat? You must have. I doubt there was even rice left on the tablecloths. Besides, for all the money it wasn’t great.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. I would have thought that at the prices they were charging it would be the best dinner in the whole country fit for royalty. Honestly, I think the place dad used to stop at when he wasn’t overly late and it was our out-to-dinner night was better.”

“I think you have colored memories of that,” he said, grimacing a little. “Remember that bug we couldn’t identify floating in mom’s soup?”

Sayu made a displeased noise. “Not that one. The other one, before they sold and it went under. They used to make that donburi with the sweet chicken that was crispy.”

“Yeah,” he said, surprised Sayu remembered that at all. She was seven, maybe eight when the owners sold and poor management and cost-cutting had bankrupted the new ones. “He used to get after you because you wanted something different each time our out to dinner ended up being food from outside for dinner.”

“He still brought it. I think he secretly hoped I wouldn’t like the raw eel.”

Light made a face he couldn’t help. “I can’t believe you ate it. That you liked it.”

“You sound like Touta,” she complained. “I can’t eat it in front of him, he acts like I’m putting a living eel down my throat.

He curbed any words that might reflect some thoughts he still had over Matsuda. Careful, he needed to be careful because he didn’t want Sayu upset or give her husband more ammunition against him. There was no idea in him that Matsuda had forgiven him in the slightest or that he wasn’t watching right now, displeased his honeymoon was delayed and that Sayu was in the same room as him.

The husband she now had because after Matsuda had apparently told her to wait a year, she had marched to his door on that anniversary to ask him to dinner. He was still impressed that as far as he knew dad actually hadn’t hit the idiot over the head with his cane. It was restraint Light knew he didn’t have.

“Sometimes he’s right,” Light settled on, his sister giving him a pointed look. “What? Just because it’s traditional doesn’t mean it’s automatically great, looking at your dress. I’m amazed your stain free.”

“I had nightmares about that.” Sayu looked positively stricken for a minute, shuddering. “I swear, my biggest fear was that we would be ready and then right before it all started, someone would fall and spill something bright and hideous on me.”

“I doubt he would have cared if you got married in your underwear.” That was the truth – Matsuda would have been upset for her, but the man wouldn’t have cared about all the rest of it. “He probably would have given you his clothes and been the one cold.”

And he better damn well knows how lucky he is to have her. She’s completely out of his league. He better be waking up each day thankful she saw something in him.

It was a sobering thought that Sayu was sharing a bed with Matsuda, that she wasn’t single and home, conniving ways to get him to do things for her or snooping through his drawers.

“Hmph,” she said but Light could tell she was pleased.

He wasn’t sure how much time they had, what they should talk about when she hauled herself up out of the chair, waving a hand at him.

“Oh no, you stay there. I’m just looking around.”

“Making sure I’m secure or plotting my escape?” he joked before he could stop himself.

“Neither. Just want to see.”

He watched her go, feet bare and silent now as she went to the glass door that looked out over his tiny outside access. As the sun set, the soft lights that were embedded low in the walls were beginning to glow. Not that he would ever admit to being thankful over them and that he didn’t have an inky blackness through the long nights greeting him as there were no coverings.

“Mom found the one that has the little red delicate flowers,” Sayu said, before putting a hand over her mouth. “I shouldn’t have said anything. She was all excited to tell you.”

“I’ll act surprised.”

Sayu nodded, looking at the tiny garden that he had been allowed to start tending a year in. Days spent weeding, feeling the moisture of the ground seep into his pant legs to assure he was alive and that he was still on the planet.

Her attention turned to the rest and there wasn’t a lot to see, all of it beside the bathroom contained in this one room. This was where he had been brought seven months after Near had taken him originally and it was decidedly better than the first place where he was still trapped in shackles and everything had been concrete and few niceties.

“You still cook?”

“Yeah,” he answered, watching her touch the small counter of his kitchenette. He hadn’t been allowed to use it at first, everything was locked and turned off. Even now, he had to make do with the limitations, that nothing truly sharp or heavy could exist in it lest he damage himself or others. “Most of my meals I make now.”

“Probably taste better.”

Light shrugged. “Depends on who you ask I would think.”

She smiled as she moved on, her skirts rustling, the layers flowing with her as took in his bookshelves. Those had developed over time, people being sent to add them when he had asked Near to be allowed to keep some of the books instead of trading in what he had for the new. People had come, and still came if another was put in, as his family helped fund his book habit now, with him standing as far away as possible when someone was here with him. Barring Sayu and he was surprised. He hadn’t gotten instructions that he couldn’t be near her but he worried he had broken some secret rule and after she left everything would go with her.

It wasn’t rational. Near didn’t play those kinds of games but he couldn’t help the iciness in him.

It wasn’t a big space, his shelves were high due to the high ceiling here that was set with skylights that allowed natural light during the day and the view of the outside world he was allowed to have as her fingers brushed along the spines.

“I didn’t know you read poetry.”

There’s a lot you didn’t know about me. “Depends on the type.”

A nod and he knew she would find them eventually and decided to let her, doubting that Near was going to make an appearance and save him from himself.

Finally, she got to his desk, the only thing here beside his bed tucked up in the corner accompanied by a small chest of drawers. It was turned so that instead of the concrete wall that had a covering like it was anything but, he could see his little outdoor area that demanded shade plants because nothing here got the best sun. The surface was neat, he always kept it like that, a pen and blank paper and a small light that he used when it was very late.

Mischievous to the end, he didn’t miss her look and he sighed, not stopping her as she opened up the first drawer that promised to hold something besides more pens.

He couldn’t watch and he clasped his hands in front of him, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, listening to her shuffling papers, dragging things out he didn’t share with anyone.

“You write it?”

“Would appear so,” he sniped out, burying a comment about that being obvious as he kept staring at his feet, feeling on display. That it would be this over everything else that caused him to feel naked was a surprise but that didn’t change the sensation.

A creak, he knew she was sitting in his chair and he made himself breathe, not sure if he should distract her as he heard her turn pages, looking for more. It wasn’t that it was innately embarrassing, it was the fear that she would laugh at him, mock him for spending his time doing such a thing that weighed on him far above the various things he wrote about.

Even if she never would say it. That she thought he was stupid, a waste, that what he wrote was as worthless as him.

Then he remembered what else was in those drawers.

Shit.

“Sayu – “ he started, already getting up but he saw it in her hands, slipcover open, her fingers tracing over the lines of names. Papers that he sometimes couldn’t look at, contemplated destroying and other days he worked compulsively on till his exhaustion made him sleep almost upright.

Her face wasn’t visible but he was sure he had just destroyed her wedding day.

“Are you trying to remember all of them?” Her voice was soft and neutral, he couldn’t determine what she was feeling as he fought the urge to rip it out of her hands.

“Yes.”

The truth was the only thing he had, there wasn’t any other plausible deniability he could offer even if she didn’t recognize any of what was there.

“I haven’t forgotten what you’ve done, oniichan. I want to, I wish I could. I was angry for a long time that dad didn’t get his way and I found out.” She took a long breath and released it, the edges of the sheets fluttering. “I’m still angry. I hate Kira, will always hate Kira.”

Swallowing, Light kept back from her, trying not to think of how she had waltzed in here and he had stupidly believed for even a second that there was anything resembling love between them anymore. Memories of that bad night, what she had sounded like on what he thought would be his last call surged up and he struggled to understand her.

She put them back in the bottom of the drawer, some of the other papers following as she paused to read his writing and he found himself staring out at the soft lights outside, the sky fully dark now.

Unbidden he remembered yelling at his father years ago over the phone when all of this had first begun while he was far more confined and believing that was to be the entirety of his existence, claiming that all of this was to make him pay.

“I know you’re angry, Light. I expect you to be.” Dad’s voice had been so tired as if existence that day had been a hardship and perhaps it had been. “But you aren’t alive because we hate you.”

The door was opening and he made himself look, seeing Near enter with Matsuda, the latter was still in his wedding finery, too. For the first time, Light contemplated their travel times to be here, how far out of the way he had to be, and they had both come still dressed as if they had just left their wedding a few minutes before. Though, in Matsuda’s case, Light was certain it was support for his wife over any leftover endearment towards him.

Light would always wonder if Matsuda regretted not shooting him in their headquarters. Light wished some days he had just done it, even if dad would have been devastated, it at least would have granted them a way to keep going better than he had.

Sayu gave him a sad smile.

“I’m not allowed to stay very long,” she said and Light nodded, watching her go to Matsuda, her husband now, who was holding what looked like a wrap and her purse. “I do have something for you.”

She hunted around and he had half a mind to tell her maybe if she had a smaller one she would have fewer problems but kept it down. This was Sayu, she would just jam more junk into half the space if given the chance as she pulled out a paper, taking it to put on his desk.

“It wasn’t decided until the day if I would get to come. They didn’t know until about two hours before we left. I wish I could have given them more warning, but this is what they sent with me.”

Mom and dad. Light nodded, forcing his face to remain blank, not knowing what was on it or which one of them wrote it. It was the first time he’d been allowed to have something physical from them as he tore his eyes from it. Sayu reclaimed her shoes.

“I was going to tell you, a few months ago during my clinicals I got to hold a baby that fit in the palm of my hand,” she said as she came closer to him. “I found out yesterday that he got to go home.”

“Good,” he said, meaning it, marveling at something so small. “Just don’t go having kids no matter how big they pop out until you’re done with school.”

He meant it as a playful scold but her face twisted a little and she put a hand on his arm.

“You don’t know. I can’t have them.”

He looked at Matsuda who was pained but nodded at him, still silent and it felt so unfair that she wouldn’t have this.

“I’m sorry,” he said, unsure of what or how much he was apologizing for.

“We plan to adopt but it’s so expensive and takes so long…” her voice trailed off as she struggled and he didn’t know what words she wanted.

“They want married couples and the longer they’re married, the easier it is,” Matsuda said, his voice not flat, but carefully controlled, barely able to look at them.

That was why they had changed plans. He remembered the strange bitter resentment when she told him, apprehensive, about not only Matsuda but that she was going to get married once she finished school. Then, the turnaround, his sharp words about how she couldn’t wait to make bad choices that he would forever regret, seeing her tense, dad hurt and mom just upset because it had come during one of the few times he was allowed to see them on a screen.

“I can’t see why they wouldn’t let you.”

She hugged him, something fierce in her and he didn’t know if he was saying goodbye permanently, that this would be the last time he heard her as he tried to make sure he knew her so no matter how shattered his mind became, he wouldn’t forget her.

When she drew back, she kissed his cheek and he saw she was crying, making a mess of her makeup, her hands on his face.

“I love you. Always will,” she whispered before she left him to join Matsuda, Light unable to get anything out to that, seeing them disappear behind the door, her husband helping her with the wrap.

Near was still here and Light turned, putting distance between them so there wouldn’t be an excuse to use the device forever attached to him as he got himself under control. He wouldn’t give the bastard the pleasure of seeing him upset.

It was still strange, even if Near came several times a month now. In the beginning, they had spoken only half a dozen times at most, the majority of his communication with Roger, any masked guards he had silent outside of the rare instances he was outside of his prison. And then, it was only short, cutting directions that lacked even one unnecessary syllable.

Then he had gotten sick. It wasn’t purposeful, his inability to eat. It had been slow, coming over weeks and months as he took in less food, never hungry, warnings over it but it wasn’t a choice. His lungs had picked up an infection from somewhere and Roger had come to sit with him, taking care of him. With Roger came recordings of his mother reading.

Sometimes he still played them when trying to go to sleep as he turned the chair by the glass door so he didn’t have to see Near and sat.

“She stole one of your works, by the way.”

Starting, Light was about to look towards his desk and Near when he stopped himself, letting out a small, pained laugh. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighed, swallowing, hating how normal this was with Sayu. “Of course she did.”

“If you want it –“

“It’s fine,” Light said, cutting Near off, not wanting to talk. He wanted to add that he would have just given it to her but he knew that was a lie. Even if he had agreed to let her take anything, he would have chosen it and he suspected he already knew which ones Sayu might have been enamored with.

When I was upset after she found –

He cut off his thoughts, not wanting to think about it again.

“I limited her time for both of you,” Near finally said and Light scoffed.

“I feel like you’re waiting to gloat.”

“Over what?” Near sighed. “I’m not going to mock you for having human emotions.”

“Sure, I believe that.”

“You enjoy thinking the worse of me. It’s the way you cope.”

“Let’s not pretend what you pass off as penance is your way of being worse than just killing me. So yes, I do think the worst of you because you like watching me perform.”

A sound, something shifting and he had the idea that Near had sat, most likely in his desk chair.

If he had killed his family when he originally gained the opportunity, like a sensible person, he wouldn’t be here right now. Dad would never have gotten the eyes, Mello wouldn’t have drug Sayu off and had a chance to test the rules he made up. He would have been far freer if he had just kept to his original plans.

[“Those with clean consciences are cheering Kira in their hearts.”]

“When I was trying to decide what authority to hand you over to, I had Roger ask your father what he wanted regarding you.”

“Let me guess, it was to spare me.”

“He told us that he wanted to write your name.”

Light flinched, cold and sweaty.

“At the time, he believed there was no other option, and he was not wrong. Your mother and him and I would guess Sayu, too, in the end, planned to write out your death together. They were going to put in a part where you confessed, but only as much or as little as you decided on before you went to sleep. But, they found they didn’t want to compel you to say or do things that weren’t your own will. It was the last mercy they could give you.”

He’s lying, I want to say he’s lying but I could see dad doing something that foolish and dragging the other two into it. Neither he nor mom would have ever come back from that and then who would Sayu have? I’d be dead, they’d be as good as dead, and while I dislike Matsuda, at least she’s happy and I know he probably won’t hurt her outside of by accident due to idiocy.

“L once told us that lying monsters were the most dangerous kinds of monsters in this world because they spoke of friendship and love though they were capable of neither,” Near continued, apparently liking the sound of his own voice and Light made himself not show that he even heard him. “He thought himself this, but I doubt it, especially after speaking to the officers that worked with him. I’ve wondered for years if he felt it would apply to me, or to you.”

“I would say me,” Light replied, keeping his voice even. “Even when I couldn’t conceive of killing someone, he still said I looked like the type.”

“This penance, as you call it, was what I could feasibly come up with that would be even remotely acceptable to those involved so I would not have to allow your family to follow through on their plan.”

“Why would you even let them do that?” He couldn’t hide it anymore, hands clutching his knees as he looked out at the dark sliver of sky he could see.

“It was the only humane option left not only for you but for them as well.”

The sound he made was loud, his own mind confused whether he was screaming or sobbing as he curled up on himself, unable to hold back the wall that threatened to just break and drown him some days. The hours when he was angry, hateful, were easier to handle than this. He could thrive more on his rage, could push it all away and not think until he was forced to hear them, mom worrying and dad finding things to talk about that wasn’t what he had done and all the disappointment.

And then Sayu had come and she still…

He didn’t drown though as it slowly worked its way out of him, his body still shaking and his throat hurt. Belatedly he realized that this may have been to test the waters to see how he handled a rare visitor and he felt he had failed whatever test Near had concocted in his head.

Not that you even expected to get what you had tonight, he reminded himself, disgusted that he sniffled and saw a napkin at the top of the trash can nearby. Reaching for it, lip curled, he used that to blow his nose as it seemed a better option than his sleeve.

The sleeve of the clothes Near had given so he could dress up with his sister today.

I don’t even know why she would bother coming. Why she still sits with mom and dad when they call, why she still calls...

Near was still with him. Risking a glance, he caught sight of Near half curled up in his desk chair, head tilted back to take in the view offered by the skylights. Light had found out that if he shut off everything other than the low wattage ones in the baseboard because he must always be visible, he could see the stars, the bright ones at any rate, the light pollution being minimal where ever in the world he was. All he knew was that there were seasons, his little garden protected by the glass roof when it snowed during a cold winter or when the air felt humid and stiff on the longest days, the sun taking its time to set in the summer.

“I know I’m not him,” Near had snapped when Light had taunted him in the early months with only being a shadow of L. “I don’t want to be.”

It was more of a lie than Near would ever know. Near always claimed he was a good liar.

After all this time, he was still unsure if L would have gloated at his execution or not. He was sure the bastard would have come, made sure it happened. Maybe, if he had even a passing fondness for dad and he thought L might have though he lied a lot about everything, he might contain his glee over winning. But there was no doubt in his mind that if L was alive, he wouldn’t have this as an option.

It stung and he wondered a little at Near’s story.

“Mello died three weeks ago,” Near told him and Light knew he was still looking up and not at him.

“Was it due to his own stupidity?”

“Yes.”

Light ran his tongue along his teeth. He wasn’t going to be sorry over this. The guy had hauled off Sayu, damn it, and she had done nothing wrong. Kept her prisoner and terrorized her, forced dad to sell himself to get her back because neither of them had been able to let her die.

I hope she never knows how much he did with that book.

“Surprised you didn’t pull this with him.”

“He didn’t have what you do to be able to survive it.” A creak and he knew Near was getting up and a part of him was irrationally afraid that Near might come over to him, touch him. “You should look at what they sent when you’re ready. There’s nothing bad.”

The door was opened, then closed, and Light found himself alone, the profound loneliness of his life that would persist until he died, either mostly naturally, or by Ryuk when dad died. Near had only delayed the inevitable by keeping the book from the Shinigami. Once that last bar was gone and Ryuk allowed to fully roam free, he couldn’t see there being any passing thought outside of finishing this one last duty.

Rising, wanting his mind to think of anything else, he undressed, got his normal clothes, and took a shower, his thoughts drifting to Mello even if he didn’t want them to. He wondered what Near felt if he felt anything at all but he wouldn’t have mentioned it if it didn’t matter to him. Light had learned enough to be sure of that – Near didn’t say things idly.

He had grown used to the situation of having absolutely no privacy here as he dried himself off and redressed. Though Near had not asked him, as Near didn’t personally go through his papers, he would have been shocked if it hadn’t been known that he kept that list.

Did he tell Sayu to look for it to see why – no, she was blindsided. I don’t think she would have been like that if she had known it existed, if he was using her as a way to get the information he thinks I wouldn’t tell him otherwise. And she didn’t stand there and push like he would have wanted. But he didn’t try either.

Reaching into the cupboard, he pulled out the canister of ground coffee and a filter. When he had begun being allowed use of his little kitchenette on the grounds of his good behavior, he had immediately gotten suspicious when, at the very least, all the shelf stable food, as little as there was, had been his favorites as if they had been directly imported from home.

“It is not expensive to feed you,” dad had said sharply when he confronted them on their next call, upset over the idea that they were being made to pay for his upkeep. “We asked to, and we wish you cost more. You need to eat.”

If he hadn’t allowed dad to take that book to the states, to make that trade, to instead have done the sensible thing and let Sayu go, he wouldn’t be here. It would have worked even better if he had convinced dad to do it himself, to grant her a painless death. Dad would have broken afterward that killing him in thirteen days would have been a mercy. Mom wouldn’t have been an issue - she would have believed anything he told her at that point.

[“I’m the hero who’s liberating people from fear. I’m the savior who’s going to be like a god of this perfect new world.”]

His hands shook as he listened to the coffee brew and he leaned against the counter, feeling its hard edge push against his palms, reminding him that he was real and alive and would keep being that way for a while longer.

He was always anxious that the next day would be the one that Near would come and tell him that dad was gone if Ryuk didn’t beat him to the punch.

Pouring a cup, he took it with him to open the little glass door. It was getting late but he doubted he would sleep at all for the next few hours. The air was stuffy and carried faint traces of his sister. A part of him wanted to slam the door shut so she wouldn’t be all the way gone and he chided himself.

The night air was pleasant enough this time of year, mixing in with the smells of fields and late summer as it seeped through small vents hidden in the walls of his outdoor space to give the illusion that it wasn’t merely an extension of his cell.

The other failsafe, their ability to pump gas if they didn’t feel like electrocuting him in case he misbehaved, got him exposed to a whole lot more fresh air. It had never been used but it was tested twice a year in a process he loathed. It meant he was fully shackled, complete with his cuffed hands chained to his waist to the point of immobility before being blindfolded and led out by guards who gave stiff directions on what steps he should take and where he should take them.

And he always waited outside, uneasy because he was so unaccustomed to wide open spaces, more so that he couldn’t see, aware that he was standing in grass of some sort or at least soft earth over concrete or gravel. Often, Roger was able to come to stand with him while the testing was done, offering quiet words. The last two times, Near had been present as well.

If he strained, he thought he could hear the very distant sound of cars on a road. Once, he thought he had heard a train whistle and a handful of times the distant sound of a plane flying by. The birds were clearer where he waited, and sounds of nature if he listened and he often didn’t listen that closely.

“It’s almost done,” he remembered Near saying last time. “Nothing will hurt you here.”

Coming back indoors was always a relief, limbs freed, released to his room, sight restored and alone, walls a familiar comfort after all this time as they were now. Constant and unchanging no matter how much everything else wasn’t.

He hated that he believed Near’s words and didn’t know if Near kept him so well out of pity, a misplaced sense of responsibility, or due to a lust to simply see him suffer because of L.

“You’re real battle is accepting that you need anything from anyone,” Near had told him when he first started appearing regularly after Light’s body decided that it would like to recover from his spat of lung bogginess. “And you’ve pushed yourself under further because you’ve sentenced yourself to never be deserving of it. I suggest you re-evaluate because you won’t make it through a next time.”

Light had always wanted to ask just why Near had decided to suddenly impose himself on his limited space that wasn’t his to begin with, not really, after they spent the proceeding time with Near barely acknowledging he existed beyond something to throw well-practiced dismissals at.

It was an answer he didn't like to contemplate. Just like he couldn’t think of the phone call with Sayu that he thought would be his last. Her broken voice told him she didn’t want him to leave her but she understood if he needed to that had shown how he had failed her all over again no matter what she said.

He’d figure out what she stole later. It didn’t matter, he couldn’t upset her by trying to get it back.

Sitting at his desk, he saw it had actually been an envelope that she left and it felt like it had more than paper in it as he pulled the contents out, unfolding the letter.

That Near already read.

Inside, wrapped carefully in wax paper, were three pressed flowers. Seeing the colors and shapes, he understood these were the ones mom had been telling him about growing, how much she liked them. He thought he would never see them bloom

Did she do this in the hopes of one day showing me, or did she just take up the hobby and it worked out as a happy accident?

It was dad’s writing on the pages, three of them. Light was impressed that with two hours, probably a few glasses of drink in both of them and the massive stress of not only the wedding but just Sayu being Sayu except married now, that he had this much to say.

Reaching over, he ran his finger along one of the petals and smiled.