Zephyr. It would take more than a storm to calm his thoughts.

"It is only an illusion," he remembered as his superior had once put it. "Learn this, the night does not always mean death just as morning does not always bring life and goodness."

Another zephyr. It would take more than that to calm the rebuttal in his head. It would take murder. And tonight the victim would have to be the man inside the chapel. Soichiro Yagami opened his eyes and after a brief bout of hesitation, he drew his sword. It took thirteen steps for death to walk to its most recent victim. As he neared, the ancient doors of the chapel seemed to bow before him, seemingly granting his wish to deliver the final killing blow...

They gently let him in.

The bishop fell on his knees, his mind reeling from the impact, while blood from his body gushed from the deep cut on the left side of his chest. At least it had been painless. The bruise slowly bloomed red on his robes, spreading outwards from his pierced skin. As odd it seemed the bishop was noticing colours he would normally chose to ignore. There was a yellow stain on his sleeve from the service. The walls of the chapel, originally white, were now turning a dull shade of yellow and gray. The clothes of the assassin, the man before him were black but were most definitely expensive. So were the shoes, the watch and the mask. "I am sorry, Father." Everything went black as the bishop closed his eyes, seeing himself in the silver blade, smiling.

Soichiro jerked his head around when the sounds of glass shattering reached him, magnified by the echo in the church. His eyes shifted from side to side until he spotted the creators of the commotion. The Wammy's entered in armour bearing the mark of the Child of God. His nemesis Watari led them into the imminent battle field. Soichiro's shoulders tensed; he narrowed his eyes and wrapped his hand around the sword more securely.

"Give up Yagami. You will never get out of here alive unless, you know, you decide to join..."

"Fight, Watari, or die trying," hissed back Soichiro.

The next few minutes blurred too soon, too fast for the dying priest's eyes to follow. He closed them with a final breath as the best of both Seishun and Wammy's attacked and defended with skill acquired only with time.

Metal clashed, sparks flew and their breath hurried in the short period of time. Watari brought down the sword with both his hands, his teeth gritting in frustration, a strange light in his eyes. The black irises seem to hold the weight of the judgement in them. Soichiro held his own, hands clenching tighter around the hilt, blocking the descending sword. Sweat ran down their necks, back. Hazel eyes shone with passion. He pressed forward and Watari side-stepped, landing a blow on him from the side, bruising his abdomen. Soichiro closed his eyes as pain shot through him for a brief second. Breathing becoming laboured. He opened his eyes, and attacked with renewed vigour.

"You never could beat me Watari."

"Maybe not then but things can change. You of all people know that very well." Watari gave Soichiro a knowing smile and closed in the distance between them. With Lightning, he knocked the sword out of Soichiro's hand and with Wind, pierced his own in Soichiro's chest.

She walked like rain on greyed parchment

Dissolving the sorry rainbow expressions

A part in thy heart

For sleep has no place its own.

In jocund company of darkness,

Rest forever...forever... Only a Yagami could make death sound so beautiful.

It seemed like cruel fate that it rained the day Soichiro was buried. After the last of the mourners had left, Light Yagami rose reluctantly to go back. To him, it was like attending his dad's funeral, again. A fleeting memory in him, that he had buried long ago, rose to the surface, like a knife, tearing its way to Light's conscious mind, every bit as painful despite the years in had been suppressed under...

It was a usual day for Light. He had woken up in his lavish white bedroom one crisp morning to the sound of his mother's calling. To him, it was the best sound of all. But that day, it had sounded muted and distant. Light knew it would take him exactly fourteen seconds to reach the main hall from his second floor bedroom. His still sleepy feet dragged him on the cold floor, as a shiver ran up his spine. He rubbed his hands together to warm them before blowing some air onto them, repeating the procedure till some warmth flowed through him in the bitter cold morning. The unheated corridors were the only warning he got for what was to come. He tripped over a vase in his sleepy haze, he cursed. A piercing scream followed.

Blood. Dead bodies of his parents. Unfamiliar stillness. All too familiar wetness on his face.

His father laid in a pool of blood, next to his mother, Yagami Sachiko. The red liquid flowing from the wounds mixed onto the floor, spreading outwards rapidly forming unusual patterns on the carpet. Bile piled up in Light's mouth and he retched out the bitter acid as quickly as it came as he saw the dagger that had been stabbed through the valiant hearts of his parents.

He painfully tore his eyes away from the sight of his dead parents and looked around for any sort of imminent threat, tensing. The tears continued their course down his cheeks. He found none. All his eyes met were the pictures from his youth, blurry from the salty water in his eyes. His mother's warm smile, looking at him with love and concern. His father's barely concealed smirk as he too watched over at Light. Another picture of three boys running, wind playing in their hair. It was the worst possible setting for the twisted expressions on dead bodies to be surrounded by so many emotions and memories and Life.

Light's father was the chief commander of Seishun's forces but never before had Light seen a fight in his own secure and peaceful home. Light could not even cry anymore as the shock overtook any other emotion, numbing him, artificially easing the pain outwards from his mind. The teen felt being dragged down as his head began to get heavy and his vision swimming in a million colors. With no energy left to fight the nature, he let his body shut down as a self-defence mechanism and before he closed his eyes, a word escaped his raw lips in a whisper...Soichiro...he needed his pillar of strength...

It had rained that day too. Both days his family perished, the heavens seemed to offer its condolences.

Light shook his head, as if physically trying to escape the memories from his past, clenching his fingers into a tight fist. Light reached the only place he felt at home now since that unfaithful day.

K.I.S.S. headquarter was situated in the suburbs of Archangel, Russia. Hidden behind century old trees on the Loch Tumel Street, the grey building was a symbol of power and wealth despite its austere exterior and elevation design. The gravel driveway ended with its mouth to a thick wooden double-door. Two stone towers stood proudly, flanking the entrance on the either sides. Watch Towers. Standing in the summer dusk, Echizen let the artificial yellow light rest on him, the guards confirming his identity as a part of an elaborate security measures from above the tower as a man stood in front of him, frisking him. Clearing the first part, drawing some relief from the familiarity of the routine, he let the warmth from the interior of the HQ consume him, soaking him in the smells and colors he associated with being a Knight.

He walked towards the Devil's Lair, situated in the far East corner of the castle, which housed the Centurion of the Knights. Walking in the corridors, he let his arm run on the surface of the wall. When he first visited the HQ, he had trailed the walls with his hands in a childish desire to touch something his father had, in a curious exploration of his father's workplace. He felt a comforting reassurance in the halls, even after seven years of his first visit.

Turning a few times, he knocked twice and entered L's office, letting a small smile escape on his lips reading the caption on the door - indulgence instead of his abnegation. L's weird tastes did not end with his fascination of the Imperial Roman army.

Light kneeled on one knee, holding his sword perpendicular to the ground, tip downwards and cupping the hilt with both hands. He bowed his head.

"Rise, Light. You now have work before you," the voice boomed in the silent and dark office. L stood leaning against the window, in his usual slouch, his back to the other occupant of the room and watched as the sky changed color from blue to red, orange and finally black as the sun set. The grandfather clocked chimed seven times from its secluded corner in the room. The room had an eerie stillness about it, as if the very air that they breathed in mourned the loss of Soichiro. The older man turned around, looking far older than his twenty three years, and faced his brother with a steely determination in his golden eyes.

"Your command, L" Light promised.

"Avenge Soichiro's death. Find his killer."

"I will be head him right before your eyes or I will die trying."

"Go Light, find him. That is your only mission now. Take whatever forces you need and take as much time to train but I want him dead, right before my eyes."

"Soichiro's birthday is in seven months from now. Before that I will have slain his killer with my sword."

"You remind me so much of your father. He was the most honourable Knight to walk these halls. I see you taking his place now. Your father and Soichiro were very close friends. They joined together and were killed by the same person. Avenge your dad, Light. Avenge Soichiro." L's voice lacked the usual childish joy it came with, replaced by the solemnity of the situation.

"It would be an honour." Light's golden eyes mirrored his brother's strong black gaze and determination and he clenched his fist in a silent resolution of the conversation.

Light turned to leave, bowing once, and his thoughts churning possibilities of the suspects. After a few moments and outside the head quarters, Light realised for the first time that night that he had no home to go to. He could not go home. No, not now. Soichiro and Light always left together to the Yagami house to share a few drinks, catch a ball game or to devise strategies. It would be too much for him to face the empty house. He found it hard to breathe, as if the very air out of him had been punched, as the realization of the consequences of Soichiro's death hit him full in the face, and he doubled over, gasping for air.

With effort, he straightened himself, and clenched his fists again, for the third time that day, a habit he had unconsciously picked from his dead friend. He breathed deeply once, twice, drawing strength from the familiar gesture. Familiarity...that was what Light needed now.

He looked for a place where he could find a few hours of solace from the grief that he was trying to keep at bay. He searched for some sort of normalcy in the recent twist of the events to prevent his emotions from confusing his rational side of the mind further. Noticing only a run-down bar open, he walked away. Two or more miles after he found a shop that sold cigar. Echizen walked towards it. He never made it there.

A/n: I believe some explanations are due. Please keep this in mind when reading.

Light became an orphan when his parents were killed.

His father and Soichiro were very close.

So Soichiro took him in, and gave him his name so that the enemies could not find Light due to common last name. Hence I referred to both Light and Soichiro as Yagami

If there is any other doubt, please let me know. Reviews are welcome.

Thanks much,

Enjie.