God/Human
[May 2, 2004]
The more Light thought about faking his death and being Kira from the safety of the Wizarding World, the more he liked it. Leaving his game with L half-way through felt like giving up, like defeat. But if he considered Ryuk, the greatest variable and literal owner of his life, then Light could classify ending their game early as a tactical retreat than defeat. Ryuk was a God of Death and there was no shame in changing his plans to accommodate Acts of God. Even airlines didn't fly in a tornado, tourist trips were canceled in the face of tsunamis and earthquake insurance certainly was a premium.
It hurt. Accepting someone like Ryuk as a God as compared to his own self hurt more than Light had first expected. Ryuk had no morals, no restraints, no conscience and no one to hold him accountable except his King. How could Ryuk be a God? How could someone like Ryuk be a God while Light was only human? Especially since—
Kurou Otoharada - killed and wounded six people before taking eight pupils and staff members hostage at a nursery school - heart attack - Light saved their lives.
Takuo Shibuimaru - he and his group sexually assaulted a woman in public - death by traffic accident - Light saved that woman from actually being raped but trauma from being catcalled and stripped in the middle of the street would still be there. Not to mention, Shibuimaru's blood and brains splattered on the road- RedredRedredhedeserveditfilthneededtobecleanedifnotmethenwhom
Light rolled off the bed and fell onto the floor. He stood, ran and stumbled to the bathroom and retched. Acid soured his mouth and his stomach rumbled, painfully empty from having thrown up first thing in the morning. Light groaned and leaned his head against the toilet seat, trying to keep bile down.
No, he did not regret killing Shibuimaru. Any rapist deserved death and Shibuimaru, when Light later looked him up in the police database, was a repeat offender who got off based on lack of evidence. He was prime example of Kira's Justice— no Kira's Judgement. But if Light was not a God, then killing a murderer would make him one too.
Light bent over and emptied his stomach once again.
There was a knock on the door. Light answered it with a groan, not able to form any actual words.
"Light!" His mother's voice sounded from the other side. "Are you okay? Feeling sick?"
"Yeah, Light-o," Ryuk's shadow fell on Light from above as the Shinigami looked at his human curiously, "That's disgusting."
Yes, that was just what Light needed. Insults from his friendly neighborhood Shinigami.
"Fine," he rasped out. "Feeling sick today. Nothing serious. Just threw up." Light hoped this this would assuage his mother because he cannot handle her at the same time as his sudden onset of conscience.
"Do you need medicine?" Sachiko called out and Light slumped over.
"No," he replied. "I can get it myself. Just- I don't want you to see me like this, mom. I'll be down later when I'm better."
"Alright," Sachiko's voice faded as her footsteps sounded further away. "Let me know if we need to visit the hospital, Light."
And there she walked away, Light's mother, so confident her son would know better than her and of course, nothing could keep him down. She wasn't wrong, Light knew he was better than this- this- whatever this was. But after eighteen years of living together, couldn't she tell when Light meant it and when he was faking it? Was this all mother amounted to? Where was the textbook 'mother's intuition'? Where was the concern she showed Sayu, pushing and prodding till she spilled everything?
Light knew his mother cared. His father cared too. He couldn't think like this.
Light coughed once, trying to dislodge whatever bile had left in his throat. Then he stood and cleaned himself up. Whatever introspection he needed to do could be done when he was clean and in the comfort of his room.
Three hours later, Light had a neat spreadsheet in front of him detailing his thoughts. It helped bring things into perspective and plan whenever he found himself emotionally compromised.
First and foremost, Light felt no guilt whatsoever for killing the people he did as Kira. They were criminals, murderers and rapists and deserved what they got ten times over. The FBI agents were people who would have killed Light if they had gotten proof he was Kira. As far as he was concerned, it was self defense.
Second, admitted by himself after an agonizing hour of refusing to accept his wrongs, was that Light would have done so much better if he had killed people with something other than a heart attack. He had done so in the beginning because he had thought he was going to die, that there was a cost to using the power of the notebook to kill other humans, other criminals and that cost was going to be his soul. Then, Ryuk had come along and it turned out, the cost wasn't his soul but his morals and sanity.
It was too late to turn back by then. He had already killed fifty people by day five and Ryuk's words had only enforced his need to put some order in this world. If there was no God, no law, order or consequences to the actions of criminals, then he could become their God and make his ideal world. It had given him a complex. More specifically, a God-complex. He had rationalized his trauma at having become a murderer into the act itself being something only he could do. Only he was able to do. It was escapism and rationalization at its finest, generously helped along with a Shinigami's tool.
If Light had continued down his path blindly and under the Death Note's influence, then his hubris would have caught onto him somewhere down the line. Perhaps not soon, Light was a genius afterall, but eventually, that righteous, acknowledgement starved part of him would have been his doom. For example, if Naomi Misora had not been that woman's real name, then Light's last sentence would have doomed him there and then. IF Raye Penber had the strength or greater lung capacity, then he could have shouted Light's name in the middle of a subway station and he would have been caught right there and then.
It was a sad, sad day indeed when Light even had examples for his own utter stupidity.
A few more days and Light feared he would have become as stupid as the second Kira had been, on national television at that!
Third, and this had been the easiest to accept, was his steadily growing separation from his family. Light loved them, sure. He cared for them, wanted them happy, wanted to make them proud of himself, to be the son they thought him to be in reality. Despite all that, it was a fact that Light had rigged his desk with a fire trap that could have very well been turned into a fire hazard or a bomb and took the whole house— including his family inside it. That, more than anything, put things into perspective for Light.
Light loved his family but somewhere along the line, something was broken. Maybe it was Light who was broken, maybe it was a natural part of growing up, and maybe, if Light was still being delusional, he could even say it was all the fault of the death note. But the truth was, deep inside, Light just didn't care enough.
He had put being Kira above the safety of his family.
His family didn't love him but the idea of him in their minds and Light resented that. He wanted to be that person, but he couldn't. He just wasn't. Hadn't been for a long time before the death note and perhaps would never be again. He had been the perfect son and brother for a workaholic father and a mother unable to emotionally connect with her genius son. The only one who made an effort, in Light's opinion, was his sister Sayu. Had she not realized yet that Light knew math tutoring was just an excuse? Light had watched her grow up, had a part in her growing up and Light loved her for that.
He would miss them after faking his death, but regret it? Not so much. Light didn't regret killing off criminals, lying to his family, killing himself off in the near future, or making them grieve his demise. If anything, it would be a burden off his back, trying to fake the fact that they weren't as close as before, that Light didn't miss them, that no one ever accepted him for who he was and wanted him to be an ideal before a human, that he was so incredibly lonely because no one ever saw him and the only one who even tried was his teenage sister.
That brought him to his fourth point, Light was going to fake his death. There was no other way to keep on living freely. Yagami Light was going to have to go. He couldn't die by Ryuk's hands and he couldn't allow himself to be caught as Kira either. If Light took himself off the board, then L would be forced to find someone else to play as Kira. Maybe he would frame the second Kira, or maybe L would fake it and pick a scapegoat to protect his reputation. Five months going up against an idiot like the second Kira and loosing would be difficult for L to admit to himself, let alone the wider world.
Finally, sixth— Light was not a God. He was a human with a magical murder notebook. Light didn't know how or why he had forgotten despite having told Ryuk himself: He was a human, using the notebook for humans and killing criminals to make their world a better place. Kira would be a killer like no other, the Greatest Murderer in the World. It might be the messiah complex, giving up pieces of his morals, having lived in denial for the longest time but—
Light always knew he would become a great man. Now, he was simply not going to be a good one. Sacrifices had to be made for the greater good.
*****
It had taken killing Takuo Shibuimaru and a few more hours for Light to decide to be a martyr, that if anyone could cleanse the world of all criminals, then it had to be him. It had taken a few minutes with Ryuk and knowing his soul wasn't the price for the Death Note for Light to decide to make a new, peaceful world and become it's God.
Thus, it was not so surprising that right now, it took Light the knowledge that magic was real, Kami were real, he was traumatized from his use of the death note and that there was apparently historic precedent in the usage of the death note fucking with human mind because of the power high and one whole day to start working on becoming himself again.
His thoughts sorted, memories combed through and actions rationalized, Light felt like Yagami Light for the first time in several months. Light laid down on his bed, hands behind his head and the Death Note beside him as he stared up at the ceiling. Now that the daze was gone, Light could clearly feel how the the Death Note had affected him. It's dark grip on his mind to use it, write in it, kill with it showed on the shattered edges of his psyche. Light had given in and killed someone to test the power of the notebook and then in his guilt, had justified his actions as that of a righteous God.
Truthfully, Light reflected, The power of the notebook was nothing more than the urge to it. How he had used it, whom he had killed, that was all on him. The notebook was a tool, Light was its user and when the tool had wanted to be used, Light had given in and used it to kill people. It was weak. It was pathetic.
Every human who had ever picked up the death note had used it. The Death Note had an effect on the mind of it's owner, making them want to use it. Whether that effect was magical, or simply the allure of power over someone else's life, Light didn't know. All he knew was that there was no way out of it, no exceptions. Light known it from the moment he had first used it. He had told Ryuk that when they first met. Ryuk had also confirmed it, in his own way.
But to keep using it? To give in and continue killing people again and again and again and again? That was all on the owner.
The rest, from Ryuk's words and Sato's warnings, was easy to figure out. The previous owners had all realized what they had done, gone mad because of guilt, because they still wanted to use the Death Note— couldn't silence the whisper in their minds and trembling of their fingers, to put pen on paper, write a name, picture a face and do it, get rid of them, make the world yours, remake it in your image, you get to decide (courtesy of it's natural effect on the mind of their owner)— and killed themselves.
Light could have resisted it after killing off Shibuimaru. He hadn't. Had not wanted to. All Otoharada's and Shibuimaru's across the world deserved to die. Light still thought that.
However, now Light was aware of how extreme the Death Note's compulsion was. How it effected his mind. He hadn't before. And that changed things. Light was no one's tool. He would not be enthralled by the compulsion from a notebook, of all things. He would not let it effect his mind to exacerbate his worse traits, to make him reckless, sloppy, addicted to using the damn thing. Light was perfect, in control and not-a-God human who would use it as he sees fit. Light wanted to kill the worst criminals and thus, he was using the Death Note for what he perceived to be good. Passing judgement he thought was deserved.
He was a selfish, self-centered, narcissistic being.
Light took in a deep breath and smiled bitterly, feeling lighter than he had in months. With the influence of the Death Note noticed and subdued, Light faced himself and the world once more.