Chapter Text
The afternoon settled over Light Yagami’s room like a silent golden veil. Sunlight filtered through the half-closed curtains, illuminating the pages of the black notebook resting on the desk.
But Light wasn’t looking at the sun. He wasn’t even looking at the notebook.
Light stared at his computer screen with reddened eyes, his pupils dilated from lack of sleep and caffeine overdose. His fingers flew across the keyboard with almost mechanical precision: a name, a cause, a time. Another name. Another. Another.
Seventy-nine.
A slow smile, sharp as a knife, spread across his lips.
—Seventy-nine criminals, —he whispered, his voice rough from days without proper use—. In just one afternoon.
He leaned back in his swivel chair and laced his fingers behind his neck, his posture radiating pride. The world was being cleansed drop by drop, and he was the surgeon, the executioner. The god...
—Hmm... interesting lace choice, —a raspy voice muttered beside him.
Light slowly turned his head.
Ryuk floated to his left, legs crossed in midair, a magazine open between his long bony fingers. His magazine. The one Light had bought when he was fifteen, during that brief and pathetic phase where he believed girls in lingerie were the peak of human excitement.
—What are you doing? —Light asked with a frown.
—Reading. —Ryuk lazily flipped a page—. This one says “pink latex with adjustable garters.” Sounds practical.
Light exhaled sharply through his nose. God, what a nuisance.
—Don’t you have anything better to do, like eat apples or disappear?
—Apples are delicious, but human art has its merits too. —Ryuk lifted the magazine, showing a model in a leather corset—. Look at that pose. It shows determination. Do you think she wants to purify the world too, or does she just like leather?
Light ignored him and turned back to his computer. He didn’t have time for this stupidity. He had to plan the next list, verify there were no mistakes, make sure that—
—Hey, Light.
—What.
—Do you have a girlfriend?
The question fell into the silence of the room like a rotten apple hitting the floor.
Light stopped typing.
—...What?
—A girlfriend. —Ryuk waved the magazine around—. A partner. That thing humans do where they share ice cream and stare at each other with mushy eyes.
Light slowly turned in his chair. His expression was a mixture of disbelief and mild disdain.
—Are you serious?
—I’m always serious when it comes to understanding humans. You’re complicated. —Ryuk rested his chin on one hand—. I’ve seen your friends at school. Those two... Matsuda and... the spiky-haired one?
—Gevanni? Mikami?
—Those ones. They’re always with girls. Meanwhile, you sit alone, eat alone, leave alone. —Ryuk grinned, showing all his teeth.
Light clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes.
—They’re idiots wasting their time on pathetic things.
Ryuk’s eyes widened in surprise at Light’s tone, and the shinigami immediately broke into a grin.
—Could it be... you’re jealous?
The silence that followed was long. Very long.
Light felt a wave of heat creeping up his neck to his ears. His fingers, which seconds earlier had been typing skillfully, now gripped the armrests of the chair so tightly his knuckles turned white.
—Of course not, —he answered, his voice sharper now—. Jealous? Of those wastes of time? Don’t make me laugh, Ryuk!
—You seem a little worked up, —Ryuk said with amusement.
—I am not worked up. —Light jumped to his feet, sending the chair spinning violently—. It’s just... stupid! Little kisses, little gifts, hugs, “I love you,” “I miss you”... —he made air quotes with clear disgust—. Why waste time on cheesy nonsense when you can change the world? I am Kira. I am the god of the new world. I don’t have time for idiotic things like that.
Ryuk stared at him with his round yellow eyes and blinked once.
—And what about the girls who follow you around? I’ve seen the way they look at you in the hallway. Some of them are pretty.
—I’m not interested. —Light ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hated having—. They could all be Victoria’s Secret models and I still wouldn’t care. Romantic relationships are not my priority. They never were.
—But the magazine...
—I BOUGHT IT DURING MY TEENAGE YEARS!
Light realized he had shouted. He took a deep breath. Closed his eyes. Counted to three in his head.
When he opened them again, his face was once more the perfect mask: calm, calculating, cold.
—Ryuk. Here. —He tossed a red apple that had been sitting on his desk (the only food he had touched in two days, and not even for himself).— Shut up and eat.
Ryuk caught the apple with a wide grin.
—Oh, thank you. You know how to please me, Light.
—That’s the problem. —Light sat back down in front of the screen, his fingers already resuming their deadly dance across the keyboard—. You’re annoying, but I need you. So eat and let me work.
—Alright, alright, “God.” —Ryuk bit into the apple with a wet crunch and returned to the magazine—. I’m just saying... from how red you got, it seems like the topic hit you harder than you admit.
Light didn’t respond.
His fingers typed the eightieth name with slightly more force than necessary.
He wasn’t jealous. He didn’t need anyone. Love was a weakness. Hugs were for the weak.
Little kisses and cheesy affection. Pathetic.
—...
For some reason, while Ryuk kept commenting about lace and straps, Light felt a strange emptiness in his chest. Something tiny. Something he couldn’t name.
But he ignored it. Like always.
The god of the new world had no time for that...