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It was never supposed to go like this. It was never supposed to be anything real.
It had started out simply as an attempt to manipulate Light. You had noticed...oddities in her behavior: Light looking too long at you when she thought nobody was looking and then looking away too quickly, or her occasionally growing flustered during conversations. Others saw that as a normal, even expected, response to being suspected of being Kira; after all, if she were to be convicted, she would most surely be executed. But to you, it had seemed...shockingly out of character for her. The Light you knew never displayed such genuine emotion, and had never acted anything like this before, even though she'd known she was suspected of being Kira before her confinement. You'd told her yourself.
And the thing that these behaviors pointed to was something both surprising and potentially useful. Taken together, it seemed to you as if Light Yagami had something of a crush on you. But, considering the way that she stole too-long looks, seemingly almost unconsciously, and seemed to force herself to look away as soon as she registered that she was looking...it seemed that Light had a crush, but was attempting to deny it, even to herself. Which brought the crush back around to being useful. You didn't seriously believe that Light would ever alter her course of action, regardless of how attracted she was to you—she was far too goal-oriented to let something like that get in her way. No, Light stopping or even changing for you was a pipe dream—something that could technically happen, but the probability of which was so low it wasn't even worth considering. No, the useful part of all this was Light's denial of herself. If you could get her to fall for you, intensely enough so that she could no longer deny it, if you could force Kira to face the truths of herself that she wasn't willing to see...then you might be able to cause her to let something slip. If you could bring her close, you might be able to find something to destroy her.
Of course, it was unlikely for Light to forget herself so, but it was still worth a try. At the very least, it would be interesting.
And that's how it had started. You began to pay attention to what would elicit such reactions from Light, and then began to intentionally play into them. At first slightly enough that it would look unintentional, and then little by little increasing the amount. And then when you began to exhibit as many of these traits as you could without becoming a stereotype of yourself, you began to draw closer; touching Light in ways that looked mindless and harmless, cuddling up to her at night when you were "sleeping." And, as predicted, Light did not draw back from this closeness nearly as much as she should have. Of course she showed some resistance; it wouldn't have been Light if she hadn't, but it was half-hearted. And it had stayed like that for a while, neither one of you drawing any closer—you because it was a delicate process, and Light because she was in denial, and likely believed (or was trying to convince herself) that she was just humoring you.
Until one night, Light tucked you in while you were pretending to be asleep. And that was how you had known that she had caught on to the game and decided to play along. The Light you knew would never do something like this, not when she was trying so desperately to deny her own feelings. So, she had to have caught on, probably noticed that you were only pretending to be sleeping half the time. Annoying, but not unexpected—there was no way you could have kept this up for very long without her figuring it out. Light was much too smart for that. In any case, she had decided to play along, which meant that she thought she could get something out of this. Most likely, she thought that she could seduce you, beat you at your own game, and that that would make you weak to her. A plan typical of Light Yagami's arrogance, but one that could never work. Firstly, you would never fall for her, someone who was most definitely the most prolific serial killer in all of history. Second, even if you somehow did fall for her, you would never let her win.
You supposed you and Light were alike in that.
After that, the "relationship" escalated startlingly quickly. It wasn't exactly surprising, though. Both of you had large egos, so whenever one escalated, the other always found a way to top them. The goal either to make the other fall in love or, if that didn't work, then to make them chicken out and admit defeat. Honestly, your plan was going far smoother with Light knowing about it than it had ever been before she had been aware, as you no longer had to painstakingly calculate and analyze what would entice her and what would be too much too soon and thus make her pull away. Now, pulling away would mean letting you cow her into submission, which meant that Light would never pull away, because she could not stand to think that there could ever be someone who was better than her. Another unfortunate similarity, but one that, despite all reason, you found you...admired.
And that had been the first sign that it was growing into something more. But you had ignored it. Pushed it down. One might say...denied it.
There were many other signs after that, but you had ignored those, too.
Until they had all hit you at once, like a flood breaking through a hastily built dam. You had been cuddling after a long make-out session. You had stared at Light's perfect, luscious, beautiful lips, and wondered how they could be so delicate and pretty, and yet spew such venom and lies. And instead of finding that repulsive, it had only been alluring, more alluring than the lips alone had been. Someone who always lied, just as you did, but somehow managed to look so beautiful while doing so. She was like an orchid mantis, you pondered. A dangerous predator lurking in the form of a harmless flower, and managing to look more appealing to her prey than the actual flowers ever had to begin with. And then you had realized, in a sudden moment of clarity, that you were in love with her.
The one thing you'd been convinced you would never do. The thing that you had laughed at Light for even thinking was possible. And yet the loss was not nearly as painful as it could have been, should have been.
Because as your eyes moved up from Light's lips to her beautiful brown eyes, you could see in her gaze that she had fallen for you, in turn.
A stalemate. Just as it had always been. Just as you were beginning to believe it would always be.
---
You never mentioned it to each other. The relationship was never any different in practice, despite now being more "genuine". Anyone looking in from the outside would not have been able to tell any difference at all, that it was more "real" now than it had been before. You could have almost forgotten that night, were it not for the almost constant look in Light's eyes. A look that said, "We both know, and know that the other knows," a look that you would have thought said, "What now?" were it not Light Yagami giving it to you. She always had a plan, had a game. She wouldn't stop that just because of some newfound revelation; of that, you were sure. You wouldn't stop that either, and she had to know that, too.
And now, as you stood on the rooftop that you had had built just for her, as the rain pounded down around you, the sun hidden by the thickest clouds you had seen in your life, you thought about Light Yagami, and what about her exactly had drawn you in so much that you now weren't certain you could ever escape.
You thought that the reason you fell in love with her was because she was the first person to ever really understand you. Light was attractive, yes, but you were certain that even if she had been the ugliest person in the world, you'd have still fallen for her. You had never placed much stock in looks, anyhow—it was irrelevant to the person underneath, to their capabilities. What they could do to you and do for you.
No, you had fallen in love with her because she had seen the truth of you, the entirety of you, and had not hated you for it. She had hated you, yes, but not because of what you were. She had hated you only by the virtue that you were an obstacle in her plans. She hated you like one might hate a tree blocking the road—you hated that it was there, but you did not hate it for what kind of tree it was, what shape it was. One might not even hate the tree for falling, might not even necessarily blame it for being there. That was what trees did, after all.
After all, she could not hate you for yourself, because underneath Light's superficial exterior, you were almost the same person. She understood too much of you and your motives to hate you for them.
It was funny how things worked. The people who claimed to love and care for you (and maybe they really did) had never really understood you at all. Every person you had ever met had met your oddities with a variety of different reactions. Some detested them, some were annoyed by them, some pointedly ignored them. If you were lucky, they would simply accept them and move on. They might have understood that the way you did things was important to you, but none of them ever understood why you did those things.
Except for Light.
She understood, even if she didn't share the same habits. She, of course, understood the big things, like the feeling of having never met someone on your same level, or the soul-crushing boredom and what one would do to make life interesting again, if only for a moment. That was what had initially drawn you to her. But as you drew closer and closer, you saw that she understood the smaller things, too. She understood that you only ate sweets because you couldn't bear the taste of anything else in your mouth, couldn't force yourself to swallow. She understood that you barely slept, not out of an inability to sleep, but out of the incessant, mad feeling that it was a waste of time, that you needed to be doing something, anything, even if it was something that contributed to nothing and nobody, like eating a slice of strawberry cake. You saw her begin to understand a thousand small nothings, and yet she did not turn away, no matter how illogical or strange they were.
She understood you, and you understood her. You understood her need to be perfect in the eyes of everyone, not only denying herself the things that she enjoyed, but denying herself the ability to even find what she might want or enjoy, afraid that it might turn out to be something unacceptable in the eyes of society. You understood her need to be good, both inwardly and outwardly, because of her soul-crushing fear of what might happen if she wasn't, even though she was more than smart enough to make sure no one ever figured out what she did in private, even though she believed in no punishment waiting after death. You understood that she had repressed herself so much that she didn't even know who she was underneath.
It was like you were opposites—you too open with your divergences, unable to hide them, and Light too afraid to show them, unable to do anything but. But at the core, you were the same. You were both impossibly lonely, and then you had both found the only person who could understand and see you.
And now the only person who had ever understood you, who you had ever loved, was going to kill you.
That much was obvious. You weren't sure how, but you knew it would happen, and soon. You also now knew, without a doubt, that Light was Kira. She'd been different ever since she'd picked up the Death Note. And it wasn't just the gut-wrenching scream she'd emitted. It was the fact that Light was now all sharp edges where there had once been some spots of softness, of tenderness. It was the way she'd switch from being unusually distant to desperately close, uncharacteristically clingy. It was the fact that she'd let you be in control, when she had never allowed that before, as if she wanted to try it at least once. It was clear that she was anticipating an end, and didn't know what to do with herself while she waited for it.
But there was no way to prove any of this to anyone. You couldn't exactly tell the task force about your relationship—it'd just make them doubt you more than they already did, find you more detestable. And even assuming you did, none of this was proof. There was never any proof with Light, and although that had never dissuaded you, it meant that no one would believe you until it was too late.
You supposed you were just going to have to come to terms with the fact that you were going to die, and soon. You might be angrier about it if it wasn't at Light's hand. You couldn't expect anything different from her, it was just her nature. Kira's nature.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you caught a glimpse of Light walking out onto the roof. Good, you'd been meaning to talk to her before it was too late. You turned your head to look at her, standing under the overhang so that the rain didn't ruin her perfect hair and clothes.
She said something, but it was too soft, and the roar of the rain swept it away. You cupped your hand to your ear so that she'd know to repeat herself. That would surely irritate her—Light hated having to repeat herself.
Sure enough, you heard her yell, with irritation in her voice, "What are you doing standing out there by yourself?"
You put your hand down from your ear, only to immediately raise it back up again, and gave her a smile to let Light know you'd heard her. If she wanted to interrupt your private introspection, she was going to have to get wet too. And oh, how she hated getting wet.
Light stepped out into the rain and made her way towards you.
"What are you doing, Ryuzaki?"
You considered pretending you hadn't heard her again, but you figured that would irritate her enough to make her go back inside, and you didn't want that.
"Oh, nothing worth mentioning...It's just...I hear the bell."
"The bell?"
You looked up, Light following your gaze.
"Yes. The sound of the bell's been unusually loud today."
Light looked confused. "I don't hear anything."
You could hear no bell, of course. But you wanted to get your point across to Light, and you could never speak plainly with her. She'd surely turn it into a weapon, and then neither of you would get anything out of this conversation.
"Really? You can't hear it? It's been ringing incessantly all day. I find it...very distracting. I can't stop thinking about it. I wonder if it's a church—maybe a wedding, or perhaps a—"
Light, as expected, interrupted you before you could say the word funeral. "What are you getting at, Ryuzaki? Come on, cut it out—let's get back inside."
"...I'm sorry." You turned away from Light. "Nothing I say makes any sense anyway. If I were you, I wouldn't believe any of it..."
That much was true. You'd both have to be fools to believe a word the other said. And you were sorry it had to be this way.
Light looked confused, and you...just stared at the ground.
After a moment, Light said, "You know, you're totally right, Ryuzaki. Most of the things you say sound like complete nonsense. There'd be no end to my troubles if I actually took you seriously all the time… I probably know that better than anyone."
You felt a hint of fondness then. Yes, there'd be no end to her troubles indeed, if she believed you in anything.
"Yes, I would say that's a fair assessment." A pause. "But...I could say the same about you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Tell me, Light, from the moment you were born, has there ever been a point where you've actually told the truth?"
Light stared at you, and it was as if the rest of the world fell away. You stared back at her, daring her with your eyes to be honest for once in her life. Or as close to honest as either of you ever got, anyhow.
And for a long moment, it was just that unbroken stare. A million feelings passed between you, and you would've been content to just stay like that forever. In a state of limbo, purgatory. Neither dead nor alive, sinner nor saint.
Until Light broke the silence, affecting a light and painfully false tone. Even Matsuda would've been able to tell it was fake. "Where's this coming from, Ryuzaki? I do admit I stretch the truth here and there. However, find me one person in this world who's never had to tell a lie—it wouldn't be easy. Human beings just aren't made to be perfect like that. Everybody lies from time to time. Even so, I've always made a conscious effort to be careful not to tell a lie that could hurt others. That's my answer."
It was complete and utter bullshit. It was such a perfectly Light answer. Even so, you found it terribly disappointing, and, ironically, hurtful. Light lied to you, yes. In fact, she lied to you more often than she told the truth. But there were almost always glimmers of truth under said lie if you paid enough attention, a sort of double meaning. It was part of what made Light so entrancing; her ability to lie and tell the truth at the same time. This lie, however, was devoid of any truth. It was the sort of answer one might put on their philosophy test. It was nothing like how Light usually spoke. It was like Light had noticed that you had dared to ask her to be honest, and had spitefully sucked out any remaining truth from her lies.
You stared at Light, hard, before looking back down at the floor, rivulets of water falling from your hair. You smiled, half bitter and half fond.
"...I had a feeling you'd say something like that."
You paused for a long, long moment, debating whether to ask this final question. You already knew the answer, but some part of you wanted to hear what Light would say, but another part of you feared that carefully crafted answer in equal measure. You knew, though, that if you didn't ask it now, you'd never get the chance.
"...Did you ever love me?"
You stared at Light, allowing just enough vulnerability into your gaze to hopefully disarm her somewhat.
There was a long, long pause. You could see Light thinking, either trying to puzzle out what to say or trying to figure out how to prevent emotion from slipping into her voice. She'd always struggled with that, especially in regards to you.
Eventually, Light broke the silence. "What are you talking about? Of course I do! Or did last night mean nothing to you?" She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around you in a gentle hug.
She said the words in that same terribly false tone. Another refusal to give you anything, even in your last moments. Still, she couldn't hide the look in her eyes as she embraced you. Her eyes had always been her tell, so she distracted with her words and actions.
"...Let's go back inside. We're both drenched."
"...Yeah."
And despite that final falsehood, Light Yagami could not lie to you. You knew she loved you, and that almost made it worse. Even though you knew she would not stray from her preplanned path; had known it since the beginning. Even though you wouldn't have, either, had the situations been reversed.
Light Yagami loved you, yes. But it wasn't enough to save you.