Work Text:
Light doesn’t mind the sleeplessness these days. It means more time to write names, more time for his life’s work, and besides, Ryuk is there: a constant looming presence curving over the spine of his back. Light isn’t stupid enough to consider him armor in the daytime, but sometimes, clicking through articles on his computer, he lets his brain default.
The night that follows upon Rem’s white-bleached shadow trailing out his bedroom door isn’t much different. He has a few tabs cached for research already and flicks through each for names, trying to put Misa’s fansite out of his mind: she’s not his biggest problem for now.
“Light,” says Ryuk hesitantly.
“What?”
It sounds a little snippy even to himself, but he doesn’t wince. Ryuk won’t mind.
“I’m really not on your side. You know?”
“I know.”
I don’t want you to be, he almost adds, but it’s too much of a risk. He doesn’t want his voice to betray anything.
“And I really didn’t know that that’s how you kill a shinigami, either.”
“I believe you, Ryuk.”
And he does. He does. Ryuk is straightforward. If he favored Light the way Rem favors Misa, he would say so — he wouldn’t hesitate, just like that time he said it would be hard to go without talking to Light: easily, as though the admittance cost nothing to him. Not the way it would to Light, to say something like that and mean it.
All Ryuk needs for motivation is apples. Light will never have to use his charm on him, because Ryuk will never, ever want him.
In some ways, I think you’re the ideal human to have picked up my notebook.
Ryuk is ideal, too. Light’s ideal monster.
“Didn’t think Rem would…” Ryuk trails off.
“Did you know her before?” Light asks, turning to face him properly. He might as well; he hasn’t read any more of the news since Ryuk started talking.
“Eh, not really. Different circles.” Ryuk shrugs. It’s an awkward motion, hunched like he’s trying to avoid the walls, even though he could pass through them easily. “She’s got no shinigami pride, though, don’tcha think?”
Light frowns. “You’re acting jittery, Ryuk. What is it?”
“I dunno!”
Light stares him down.
Ryuk cracks within a second. It’s cute, Light thinks, which would be a worrying thought if it wasn’t Ryuk. “It just freaks me out that she’d be okay with, you know…”
“Dying?”
“I guess.”
“Well, count your blessings,” Light says, shrugging one-handed. “Death’s optional for you.”
“Yeah.” Ryuk’s shoulders, drawn, finally slope back down. The moonlight through the crack in Light’s curtains turns his eyes white, only briefly. “Yeah, it is.”