I kneel before him, holding his foot between my hands. It is the most humbling of positions, and were he anyone else, I never would have assumed it. But he is not just anyone; he is Light-kun. And because he is Light-Kun, I will debase myself, will humble myself, will play the fool…all for his sake.

I glance up and read the surprise written in his eyes, and then I note how quickly the shock flees and the calculations begin. He is trying to rationalize my behavior, trying to find some ulterior motive in my actions. I can practically see the gears in his mind whirling, and I know that Kira has overtaken him once more.

But for once, I have no ulterior motive. Somehow, this one man has caused me to lose my inhibitions; to speak and act in a way that I never have before. Where he is concerned, my once sharp senses have dulled considerably, and I find that I wish to immerse myself in denial. I want to force the knowledge that he will betray me from my mind.

I remember how he looked at me as we stood out in the rain together, and I feel something inside of me break. My hair is still wet from the encounter, and the drops that fall onto Light-kun's feet are the tears that I refuse to shed.

I feel him jerk when the cold water meets his skin, and then I become aware of his hard gaze boring into me. I keep my head down, unwilling to meet his gaze. Unlike me, his feelings aren't strong enough to hinder his ambitions. He is my one weakness, but I am not his.

Suddenly, he is gently swiping a towel against my forehead. The touch is tender, and I realize that Kira has once again slipped from his conscious. "You're still wet," he observes, and the concern that I hear in his voice makes my throat thick with emotion. I do not reply; I fear that if I speak, my voice will fail me. He is silent as well, and for the first time I believe that he may feel remorse; that killing me isn't a question of desire but one of necessity.

"I'm sad," I admit when I am in control of my body once more, though I am not quite sure why I do so. Light-kun pulls the towel away from my hair, and I know that his keen gaze is boring into me; questioning me silently.

"This is our farewell," I explain, meeting his gaze for the first time since we stepped inside. And it is. After this moment, the Light-kun that I have come to love will be gone, and Kira will take up residence in his body. The bright boy who could have become such a remarkable man will be reduced to a murderer, and I, the most famed of all investigators, will cease to exist.

Light-kun's eyes widen, and I see a mixture of confusion and disbeliefs in their depths. Confusion as to what exactly I am referring to, and disbelief that I am so accepting of death by his hand. "You will understand," I tell him. One day, he will love as I have loved, been betrayed as I have been betrayed, and in the end, he will learn why I am acting as I am.

Our gazes meet, and a spark flares between us. I wonder briefly what might have been, and I know in my heart that he has done the same. The moment is cruelly and abruptly shattered when my cell phone rings, and when I answer it, my mind is not entirely on Watari's words.

It takes all of my willpower to wrench my gaze from that of the boy-turned-killer, but somehow, I manage to do so. "Things may turn out well after all," I say once I have closed the phone and have turned away from the young man. However, I know without a doubt that things will end far from well. I speak so only for Light-kun's sake.

Our moment has passed, and my death approaches, yet still, I can't help but to meet his gaze for one final time. When I do so, longing for a life that could have never been and will never be passes through me. For in what world could we two, a mass murderer with a penchant for justice, and a detective who lives in shades of gray, have ever been able to be together?

I turn my back on the boy and all that I have come to love, and instead think briefly to the future. One day, my death will be avenged; I know this as surely as I know that Light-kun will kill me.

The thought doesn't give me as much comfort as I once thought it would.