"Ryuuzaki? We're leaving now," Watari said gently.

I only shook my head, eyes stubbornly fixed on the cold earth below me. I refused to meet his eyes- the pity, the sorrow, the fatherly kindness- I couldn't bring myself to see that again. He knew. I'm sure of it. I could see in each pitying glance he tossed my way that he understood how much pain I was in, how much I cared. There were only two people who had ever understood me: Watari, and the man that currently lay six feet beneath me. My face twitched, threatening to shatter my blank mask and manifest the pain that was shredding my heart, but I managed to remain composed.

"Very well. I'll pick you up when your through. Please don't stay out too long. It's not good for you. We can return here tomorrow if you wish."

I nodded numbly. Watari softly plodded off. I strained my ears, listening as each footstep grew softer. Only when I was sure that he was gone did I finally break down. Only when I was positive that I was the last living body in the graveyard did I allow the hysterical sobs to finally rip through my body. The tears pouring down my cheeks blinded me, until there was nothing but a blur of brown, green, and stone, my shrill wails, the smoldering, choking tears, and the shudders that quaked relentlessly through my frail body.

Though I could no longer physically see it, the image of the gravestone was burned into my mind. No matter how hard I sobbed, my brain would simply not stop functioning. For if it had, I would not be envisioning the harsh, lifeless gravestone that I had been miserably glowering at for the past three hours. The gravestone on which, carved in elegant, mocking letters was the name- Light Yagami.

It looked so wrong- like a dream, or more accurately, a horrible, heart shattering nightmare. That name didn't belong there. No one seemed to understand this. His large, loving family and his many friends, coworkers, and neighbors were all sad. They hung their heads, clung to one another for support, some even shed some tears, but they didn't seem to understand. No one regarded the headstone with disbelieving eyes, horror, or even distress. Yes, they were sad, but they were also accepting- content to depart, to return to their lives leaving nothing but this mere object in place of Light.

Where was his fire, his determination, his arrogance, his intelligence, his playfulness, his genuine smile, his wit, his righteousness, his wide, gleaming eyes? How could all of this be replaced by a stone? A cold, lifeless stone with a name. How is this logical? How is this possible?

My racking sobs subsided to a steady whimper, my convulsions settled to slight trembles, and the thick, furious waterfall of tears was reduced to a small stream, softly cascading down my reddened face. I tilted my head towards the bleak sky and struggled to breath deeply in an attempt to calm myself. I hadn't cried since... I don't exactly remember, but certainly not in the last fifteen years, perhaps longer. I don't believe I have ever cried like this, and wasn't sure if I knew how to stop.

So there I was, crouched at Light's grave, nearly doubled over in pain and misery, staring blindly at the late afternoon sky. When my shaking breaths slowed and my very last tear was squeezed out, I pried open my puffy eyes to stare upwards. I shuddered at the sight that met my eyes. The sky- it was wrong, so wrong. Brilliant oranges and pinks were splashed across the cloudless expanse. The glowing colors swirled together, to meet at a burning golden orb, settling softly behind a small hill of impossibly green grass. It was breathtaking.

Why? Shouldn't the sky be a menacing black? Dousing me with harsh, pouring rain too frigid to be refreshing? Shouldn't there be thunder and lightning? Violently mourning his death? Shouldn't I be clutching to the smallest of hopes that the next bolt would strike me? But no, the sky refused to validate my misery. The image of the sun setting in itself is a mockery. The movement of the sun is a sign the world refuses to stop turning.

Why can't anyone see? It's over. Everything is over. The world simply cannot exist without Light Yagami in it. So why then, is the sun setting? Perhaps, he is still present? I shook my head, squashing the foolish thought. Light had been gone less than twenty four hours and already, I was losing my mind. I had been there when he died- had held his dying body. Light Yagami was most certainly dead. The only way he could still be here was... spiritually.

"L-L-L-Light-kun?" I rasped. I immediately felt foolish. Since when did I believe in the super natural? I ran through percentages in my head, but due to lack of reliable information, I could not surmise the probability of Light's ability to hear me. However, it was above 0%. That was good enough for me. After all, I had originally put surveillance on Light when there was little over a 0% chance that he was Kira. And he was. I almost smiled, remembering his guilt ridden face turn to shock when he realized I wasn't in the least surprised at his confession. If only... if only I had realized what my reaction would cause. What could I say to him? Would he even listen?

"Light-kun? Y-you should know that-that I...I'm sorry."

Well, wasn't today full of firsts. I had hysterically sobbed, attempted to talk to the dead, and then apologized. "Oh, Light-kun. Look at what you've done to me!" I made a strangled noise that only vaguely resembled a chuckle. "I have to wonder... was that your plan all along? To use your death to finally shatter me?" I snorted. "Clearly my reasoning abilities are dwindling as well. You wouldn't sacrifice your life to make me lose, for you would lose as well. What good is my loss without your triumph? No, no, no. I am over simplifying your personality, aren't I, Light-kun? If your sole motivation was victory, you'd still be here and I-I would probably be dead.

And besides that, I could read the sincerity in your eyes. You thought you had me fooled, didn't you? No, I always knew when you were lying through your teeth. Otherwise, how could we have possibly have had a relationship? I would never be intimate with someone who may have been Kira. No, when we were chained together you didn't lie- even when you told me you weren't Kira. You didn't know. You honestly didn't know.

You also weren't lying when you told me you loved me. Why then? If I loved you, and you loved me, then why did you do it? When we were still together, why would you write your own name in the Death Note? Didn't you believe me when I told you I loved you? That must have been it.

I'm sorry, Light-kun. It's all my fault. When you admitted you were Kira, that you were tired and repentant. When you admitted that the great Light Yagami was scared, was terrified of himself. When you told me you knew you needed to stop when the little voice in your head told you to kill me. When instead of killing me, you confessed. I should have realized that it was such a great act of love, of trust, of bravery. And how did I repay you? I told my fragile little boyfriend that I would have to 'think about it.' That was the worst possible thing I could have said! I should have known how you'd interpret it. I should have known that after pouring your heart out to me, revealing your ugly secret, telling a world famous detective that you are the worst mass murderer in history, that you needed to know immediately how I would react. Would I forgive you? Would I throw you in prison? Would I hate you? In your eyes, my needing to 'think about it' was a clear indication that I no longer cared for you- for if I still cared for you, I would have comforted you, given you some form of condolence.

But no, I was selfish and foolish and only thought about my own misery. What would I do now that the love of my life confessed to mass murder? When I said I'd think about it, I meant just that! You must believe me, Light-kun, I only wanted to mull things over! To conjure a way to get us out of that situation! I wanted to save you, and I killed you. I'm so sorry Light-kun, so very sorry."

I dug my fingers into the ground and ground my teeth. I felt like crying again. I felt like wailing and screaming my sorrows into the endless sky, now dark and twinkling with stars. I prayed to whatever gods existed that Light had heard me.

Please! Let him hear my words! He has to.

I can't stand that the last words on his lips were an apology. An apology to me. He had gasped through his pain that he was sorry he was Kira, sorry that he was evil, and that he understood that I couldn't love him... because I hated Kira. And I sat there, clutching his body, unable to utter the words screaming in my mind. No, Light! I'm sorry! I'm sorry and I love you! By the time the words had broken through my clamped lips, it was too late. He was dead. And he had died miserably, believing that I hated him, believing that he was evil.

My fault. My fault. My fault.

"LIGHT!" I screamed to the twinkling stars. "I- I don't hate you; I hate Kira! I love you! I love Light!"

And there was nothing else I could say. I whimpered pitifully, once again on the verge of tears. I thought my confession would make me feel better. I only felt pain. Because as much as I wanted to believe my confession meant something, there was the overwhelmingly likely possibility that it hadn't- that he didn't hear me.

I retrieved my cellphone from my pocket and stared blankly at it. The only thing left to do now was to call Watari. I would call Watari, return home, indulge in my grief and misery for a week or two, then return back to my frighteningly monotonous life. I would plaster on my mask of indifference, pretend I didn't still miss you- didn't still need you, and watch with festering impatience as the remaining years, days, seconds of my life slowly ticked by. It was not an appealing image, but it was what must be done. There was no other option.... Or was there?

I reached into my pocket, fingers curling around the cool metal. This morning, I hadn't been exactly sure why I had decided to arm myself to attend a funeral. Now, I realized that I must have known. My subconscious had realized that I truly couldn't live without him. I held the gun to my temple, hand steady, eyes glazed.

"Well," I thought, "I suppose it was inevitable that this case would kill me."

And the iron clamp on my shattered heart was released as I flitted into the afterlife.