Chapter Text
November 28, 2003
This day had finally come.
A day of utmost importance in my life. I would obtain the Death Note, seizing the right to judge evil. Five days later, Ryuk would descend.
The bell rang, signaling the end of another tedious high school class. I went downstairs and picked up the black notebook. As usual, I would write the name of Otowarada Kuro tonight; he would become the first sacrifice of the new world.
Passing through the noisy streets, I absentmindedly returned home and greeted my mother. To my surprise, I saw my father sitting on the sofa, intently watching TV. I cast a quick glance—had he actually come home on time today?
"Oh dear, Light," my mother noticed my pale and tired complexion and asked with concern, "You look so pale. Are you feeling unwell anywhere?"
"I'm fine, Mom." My head throbbed vaguely from a day of self-studying quantum electrodynamics, but I still comforted her gently. "The workload has been a bit heavy lately."
"Don't worry, Light," my father, a man of few words, kept his eyes fixed on the TV as if waiting for some major news, yet he still offered me reassurance. "You'll definitely get into To-oh University with top grades."
To-oh University?
Fortunately, my father hadn't seen my surprised expression. My thoughts raced, and with a hint of dissatisfaction, I tentatively retorted, "No, Dad, I applied to Caltech."
"Huh?" My father seemed to have heard something incredible and turned to look at me. "Shouldn't you be applying to the Faculty of Law at To-oh University?"
My mother chided him for being so busy with work that he'd forgotten his own son's interests. Since childhood, I had shown an obsession with mathematics and physics, and I planned to pursue further studies in that field.
Watching my father's look as if waking from a dream, I excused myself to rest and went upstairs to my room.
I closed the door. Something was wrong, I thought.
It was true that I had once studied at the Faculty of Law of To-oh University, but that was in a ‘previous' life. How did my father know? Besides, Dad's behavior tonight was different from usual—coming home early to watch TV, keeping his eyes on the news. What could be so worthy of his unusual attention?
Ah, of course.
...Otowarada Kuro.
That scumbag, after committing unforgivable crimes, was executed by Kira. He was the first sacrificial lamb for Kira's ascension to godhood and the creation of a new world.
My heart sank. Could it be that Dad had also been reborn? How much did he remember?
Were there others who had regained their memories as well?
My former family, nemeses, followers, obstructors, and those who abandoned me—these marionettes that should have danced on my strings suddenly seemed infused with souls, one by one deviating from their prescribed paths.
A flash of fear crossed my mind, but then an immense ecstasy seized my heart. A new variable had finally appeared!
In truth, unlike my father, who only had memories of the ‘first life,' I had already lost count of how many times I had repeated this cycle—from some random point before picking up the notebook to the end of my life at age twenty-four. When the second life descended, I was ecstatic, believing I was destined by heaven. After obtaining the Death Note, I did not hesitate to execute L and those brats from Wammy's House, eliminating all who stood in my way. Kira's name resounded across the world, and order was reshaped.
Everything came to an abrupt halt on January 28, 2010.
The time of my death in the first life was an insurmountable chasm I could never cross. No matter how I strove to advance the new world, destroying or pardoning my enemies; whether I revealed myself with the bearing of a god to proclaim my existence, or stayed hidden behind the world's curtain, silently cleansing the sins of the world—I could never see the sunrise of January 29.
Joy, confusion, bewilderment, irritability, unwillingness, anger, and even resentment—all had now dissolved into resignation and weariness. After fruitless conversations with the King of Death, I forced myself to withdraw from my fervor for the new world, attempting to unravel the mystery of the endless cycle from another dimension. This was precisely why I abandoned the path of becoming a police officer and instead threw myself into the arduous and obscure realm of theoretical physics.
I had to admit that, in some ways, delving into theoretical physics was even more mentally draining than the battle of wits with L.
Now, my father's ‘awakening' brought both a turning point and a warning bell. I had always treated the cycles as my own solitary game. If new players were joining, I had to ensure I remained in an invincible position.
Even if my opponent was L... No, precisely because my opponent was L.
I pulled out the chair and sat down, opening Landau's Course of Theoretical Physics, indifferent to the live broadcast of the hostage incident at a Shinjuku kindergarten. The clock read 18:23:40; there were still 13 minutes.
Bang— The bullet from the Special Investigation Team (SIT) precisely pierced through Otowarada Kuro's skull at 18:36:40. Kira did not partake in his burnt offering, and the death god still arrived as promised.
I curled my lips into a faint smile.
The following ten days were calm in the world. Thefts, robberies, murders continued to unfold endlessly everywhere. I continued my dull, routine life of school and home.
One day after school, I walked slowly along the street with the crowd, current news coming through the earphones of my portable radio. As I passed a clothing store, the clean glass window displayed a range of well-tailored black suits. Through the reflection in the glass, I noticed a brown-haired foreign man following me from a distance, his face covered by a black sweater mask.
Kevin Mitchell, FBI agent, 38 years old, skilled in surveillance and counter-surveillance, having participated in multiple international tracking missions. In one cycle, he had been the second generation of L, my direct subordinate.
Not Raye Penber or Naomi Misora? L, you really have come back as well.
A shiver of electricity raced down my spine. No matter how many victories I had later won, the thrilling tension and excitement of the life-and-death game with L in the first life were unforgettable.
I had to adjust my strategy immediately. My expression remained normal, but my mind began to race. In the worst-case scenario, if L also retained his memories in the next cycle, this life's killings would be meaningless, and once my past as Kira was exposed, I would face either eternal imprisonment or immediate execution. By then, the game would truly become an infinite loop.
Upon arriving home, I was unsurprised to find that my door had been opened. Although everything had been almost restored to its original place, traces of a search were still visible. Under the watch of hidden cameras that filled the entire room, I naturally set down my bag, opened a book on topology on the desk, and took out a notebook from the drawer where I had hidden the Death Note in a false bottom during the first life.
Of course, it was an ordinary notebook filled with dense mathematical notes. Since the time Sayu had once opened the false bottom on her own and triggered an explosion, I had never hidden the Death Note at home again.
Satisfied with what you see, L?
"I'm far from satisfied," the emaciated, dried-up death god clamored loudly. "Light, are you planning to just hold onto the Death Note and do nothing?"
The National Central Library was solemn and quiet. Despite the considerable flow of people, only the rustling of pen tips across paper and the occasional muffled cough could be heard. Ryuk was making a racket in front of me, gesturing wildly with his stick-like arms in all sorts of contorted poses, his entire body darting around the library in ways that defied physics. I ignored him, my attention completely seized by a piece of news coming through my earphones.
Nishida Kyu, the robber who killed Misa Amane's parents, had died on the spot in the courtroom. Cause of death: cardiac arrest.
Tch, that troublesome woman Misa had returned as well. I rolled my eyes inwardly. During my time as Kira, Misa, with her shinigami eyes and unwavering loyalty, was an essential ally. But in this life, where I had resolved to stay hidden and observe, she—with her memories as the second Kira and obsessive feelings for me—was undeniably a huge ticking time bomb. Most importantly, since I held the Death Note, she couldn't see my lifespan. Under L's airtight surveillance, the moment she sought me out, my identity would be instantly exposed.
Dealing with the Death Note was an urgent priority.
I had confirmed repeatedly before leaving home that my jacket and lining had no listening devices. Having thought it through, I avoided the death god's wandering gaze and calmly tore out a few blank pages from the notebook, casually scribbling some mathematical formulas on them as a cover, then slipped them into a stack of scratch paper and nonchalantly put them into my schoolbag.
Then I stood up, taking the chance of returning a book to weave through several rows of shelves, running my fingers along the spines until I found an inconspicuous gap. The Death Note was quietly pushed deep into the shelf.
"Ryuk." Seeing that I was finally willing to speak to him, the death god hastily drew near, his skull-like face wearing an expectant grin. I heard my own calm voice: "Next, I will relinquish ownership of the Death Note. You take back the notebook and follow the person who borrows the book Justice and Fairness in Law, catalog number 2779, from Section B, Row 3 on the 7th floor tomorrow at 4 p.m. Give the Death Note to him, and you will find unprecedented entertainment."
Ryuk tilted his head, clearly deeply puzzled by this inexplicable order. I didn't give him a chance to ask questions. I knew this fellow too well—with the immense temptation of entertainment, he would definitely give it a try.
The loop granted me immunity to memory loss. After quietly uttering the words of relinquishment, I treated Ryuk as if he were invisible, picked up my bag, and left the library.
Tomorrow, a law student named Shota Sato would come to the library to borrow Justice and Fairness in Law. In his childhood, his mother's murderer had been acquitted due to flawed interrogation procedures, which made him hate evil with a passion. He had once been one of Kira's most fervent followers.
Over the next five days, more than a hundred serious criminals died of unexplained cardiac arrest, and Kira's name began to spread across the internet.
The plan succeeded.
Crack! A bolt of lightning split the sky, closely followed by a rolling rumble of thunder overhead. I ran home through the pouring rain, water streaming from my hair into my collar, leaving two wet footprints on the entranceway. I pulled a dry towel from the cabinet, slowly dried my damp hair, and changed into clean clothes.
Mom and Sayu had left early this morning to visit my sick aunt in Hokkaido. Ever since the Kira case had escalated, my father had been staying away under the pretext of confidential work. I took a sip of hot black coffee, thinking they were probably crowded in front of a screen right now, monitoring my every move via the cameras.
I went upstairs and stopped at my door. The moment I reached out and grasped the doorknob, I sensed something off—it was depressed by half a centimeter more than usual. The FBI? The thought had just surfaced when I dismissed it. No, they wouldn't make such an obvious mistake. Could it be...
An ominous premonition welled up in me. Without changing my expression, I pressed down the handle and pushed open the door.
"Light!" A figure threw herself into my arms, her arms tightly wrapping around my waist. The cloying scent of perfume mixed with damp moisture rushed into my nostrils. Misa buried her face against my chest, her light blonde hair brushing against the front of my shirt.
That idiot!
My pupils contracted, and my body instinctively leaned back, my face filled with the shock of being accosted by a stranger. Inside, I cursed Misa's reckless actions. I had no doubt that at this very moment, L's hollow, piercing eyes were fixed on every micro-expression and subtle movement I made. I had to be on high alert to deal with this troublesome woman.
I clumsily pushed away the pretty girl before me, my voice trembling with indignation: "Who are you? Why are you in my house?"
"Light... you don't remember me?" Misa retorted with a hint of anger. Her gaze passed over my face, moved upward, and stopped—she saw the vivid red name and lifespan above my head. "Your lifespan—Light, where is your Death Note?"
I furrowed my brows. "What are you talking about? What Death Note?" My tone hardened. "Who are you, really? Breaking into someone's home is illegal, you know."
Seeing that my resistance and unfamiliarity towards her seemed genuine, Misa hastily took out her own Death Note and held it out to me. She explained quickly: she was the second Kira, her name was Misa Amane, and she had come to help me—who had been her boyfriend in our previous life, and also Kira—achieve ultimate victory. With that, she thrust the Death Note into my hands.
I didn't take it. Instead, I took a step back, displaying the wariness of a normal person hearing the incomprehensible ravings of someone mentally disturbed. I warned her again to leave my house and stop harassing my life, or I would call the police.
Misa opened her mouth, about to keep pestering me, when—clink! A crisp metallic sound rang out. I looked down to see a small metal canister spinning twice on the floor, white smoke hissing from its nozzle. The chemical odor of sleeping gas entered my nostrils.
...L, you bastard!
I was arrested.
When I opened my eyes again, the harsh white light stabbed straight into my pupils. I instinctively tried to raise a hand to shield them, but my wrists were tightly bound by restraints—the nylon material made a faint creaking sound as it rubbed against my skin. In the solitary cell, there was only me and the dark surveillance camera on the wall, staring at each other.
It's come to this again... I thought helplessly. But my expression reacted first: pupils dilated, lips slightly parted, breathing rapid. "Where is this?" I turned my head with difficulty and shouted at the camera on the wall, "Who are you? Why did you kidnap me?"
The microphone under the camera crackled to life. After a burst of static, L's processed voice emerged: "This is the Kira Task Force. I am L. Yagami Light, you have been arrested as the primary Kira suspect."
"What kind of joke is this?" I retorted in disbelief, my voice carrying the agitation of someone wrongly accused. "There must be some misunderstanding, L! I'm not Kira!"
"Miss Amane has already admitted to being the second Kira, and the murder weapon was seized on the spot. You are the Kira identified by her." The emotionless voice came from the microphone.
"Wait!" I immediately seized on a loophole in L's statement. "I don't know Misa Amane at all, nor do I know what this Death Note she's talking about is. Besides, my father is the chief of police—why would I be Kira?"
L had obtained Rem's Death Note, the one with unaltered rules. They could already deduce that I had been Kira in the first life—I was fully aware of that. However, unintentionally, choosing the academic path had given me the best cover. As long as I continued to act like an ordinary person with no memory of Kira in this life, if I waited patiently, the ‘trump card' that could clear my suspicion and secure my release would appear.
In the days that followed, L's interrogations were full of aggression and pressure. He would suddenly turn on the microphone in the middle of the night, mixing details from the first life with this one to test my reactions, and he laid traps in his repeated questioning. I, on the other hand, threw myself entirely into the role of an innocent, imprisoned high schooler burning with anger. My voice gradually shifted from the full-blown fury of the first day to a tired, hoarse tone, tinged with occasional hints of grievance, and my eyes slowly became bloodshot from the strain of imprisonment.
The confinement was dull and monotonous. One day, I asked L for a few theoretical physics books. The request was granted without hesitation—whether English originals or Japanese translations, they were slid under the door along with my meals the following day. It seemed L was happy to see me studying academics.
On the 26th day of my confinement, a turning point arrived.
The Death Note's control over the time of death had a maximum limit of 23 days. After 23 days, Kira was still killing, and among the victims were names that had been reported only after my imprisonment. In the eyes of the other police officers besides L, my suspicion had greatly diminished. The members of the Kira Task Force were all people of foolish justice, and continuing to subject me to such inhumane detention and interrogation would undoubtedly put immense psychological pressure on the likes of Mogi. I later learned that just the day before, a piece of news had topped the trending list on social media: Kira had killed the prime suspect in the ‘Murder of the Female Shop Owner in Yokohama' case—Tatsuya Tanaka.
In the ‘Murder of the Female Shop Owner in Yokohama' case, due to flawed evidence in the judicial chain, the prosecution had ultimately decided not to indict the suspect Tatsuya Tanaka. I had reviewed the case evidence before, and there was an 83% probability that Tanaka was not the killer. That was why I, as Kira, had not executed him. However, this murder case precisely struck a chord with Shota Sato's childhood trauma. Coupled with the media's extensive portrayal of the pitiful plight of the young son left behind, it would drive him to make an irrational decision. Sure enough, L quickly noticed this. Shota Sato's targeted killings would soon reveal his psychological profile—a punisher with a special hatred for criminals suspected of murdering single mothers. That was precisely why I had chosen him to become the new Kira.
After 26 days, I saw the sunlight again.
I had won.